Chapter Twenty-Six

Korwahn

 

Six weeks later…

It was official.

I was most definitely pregnant.

I spit into the chamber pot then sucked in breath hoping more would not come up my throat and out my mouth.

Seriously, I hated puking. And doing it in a chamber pot made a not very fun activity a lot less fun.

When the nausea subsided and it seemed I had the all-clear, I moved to the basin, poured some water from a jug on a cloth, wiped my mouth, rinsed the cloth, wiped my face and rinsed it again. Then I rinsed my mouth with water and grabbed the thin, split branch that Jacanda had given me to brush my teeth and tongue. I used that, rinsed again, grabbed the cloth and folded it as I wandered out of the bathroom type um… room.

Lahn was in bed, on his side, silk sheet up to his waist, elbow in the pillow, eyes on me.

My really not so little anymore tigress was lounging on a big, fluffy, hide-covered pad in the corner, her pink tongue licking a bone.

My stomach roiled as the nausea returned and my eyes moved back to Lahn.

Even nauseous, it wasn’t lost on me my husband was hot.

It was just that with morning sickness, I was in no mood to do anything about it.

I went to the bed, pulled back the sheet, lifted a leg and collapsed on my back, head to the pillows. I pulled the sheet up and slapped the folded, cool cloth over my eyes.

I felt Lahn’s heat against my side then I felt his large hand on my belly.

“Perhaps I was wrong,” he murmured. “If you carry a golden daughter in your womb, she would not be so rough on you.” I felt him get closer and knew I was right when his soft voice came at my ear and his hand pressed gently at my belly before he whispered, “I believe we made a warrior, my doe.”

“I don’t care what it is, just as long as you’re happy with it because it’s the only one you’re gonna get, big guy,” I muttered back and heard him chuckle in my ear but felt his mouth leave that area after it brushed skin.

Nice move and I loved to hear Lahn’s amusement.

But I was not being amusing.

I lifted one side of my cloth so I could slide my eyes to him to see he was still grinning and I informed him, “I’m not kidding. I don’t like puking as in, really don’t like it.”

I watched his eyebrows go up in a face that was still smiling. “Puking?”

“Hurling, calling Buick, heaving, throwing up, vomiting, puking.”

He chuckled again.

I found nothing funny.

I dropped the cloth and announced, “After this, birth control all the way.”

Through another chuckle I heard Lahn ask, “Birth what?”

“Birth control. After little Lahn or little Lahnahsahna makes his or her entry into this world, you’re sheathing your sword, big guy.”

An amused but confused, “Sheathing my sword?”

I lifted the cloth again, glared at him then moved my glare down to the area being discussed and just to make certain he got it, I gave a little nod in that direction.

He got it. I knew it when he roared with laughter.

Again, I found nothing funny.

I dropped the cloth and tried not to let his big body shaking the bed make me hurl.

Finally, he quieted his humor but remarked, “I’ve heard of this practiced in the Northlands. We do not practice the same in the Southlands, my queen.”

“Well, you’re going to be a trendsetter,” I returned on a mutter.

“Trendsetter?”

“Setting the fashion, being the first.”

His hand still at my belly slid up, curled around my breast and his voice was partly amused, partly serious when he informed me. “I’ll not have anything between me and my golden queen.”

I opened my mouth to say something smart but he kept talking as his hand slid back to my belly.

“And we will have many children, many warriors to serve Suh Tunak, many golden princesses so their father can behold your beauty on more than your face.”

That was sweet and all, really sweet but… I did not think so.

“That’s sweet, Lahn, but I’m being very serious.”

“Then I will be serious as well and tell you I will not use these… things.”

“Then you’ll pull out before the festivities culminate. It isn’t full proof but it’ll be something,” I muttered.

Suddenly, the cloth was gone and Lahn’s face was in mine, his big body looming over me and I noticed immediately he no longer thought anything was funny either.

“I will not spend my seed on your skin.”

Uh-oh.

I stared in his face and knew I said something very, very wrong.

“Lahn –”

“A warrior’s seed is his essence; it is the future of Suh Tunak. It is not wasted unless used to deliver the worst insult he can give or released on the body of a Xacto. Traitors, enemy warriors weak enough to get captured alive, spies foolish enough to be detected, they receive wasted seed. And a warrior does not plant his seed in Xacto and you, my golden queen, are not Xacto.”

Okay, it was safe to say this conversation had taken a drastic turn down a road I did not want to go. So I had to detour us, pronto.

“Okay,” I whispered.

He glared at me. Then he clipped, “Okay.”

“I, uh… didn’t know,” I said quietly.

“Now you do.”

I sure did.

I lifted a hand to cup his bearded jaw and whispered, “I’m sorry, baby. I won’t speak of it again. I just really don’t like being sick.”

“I don’t like it either. It means I cannot take your xaxsah in the mornings. I like to take your xaxsah in the mornings. What I do not like is having to wait until the evening.”

Hmm. Clearly my apology hadn’t put him in a better mood.

So I sought to better his mood and suggested softly, “How about you try to take my xaxsah with your lisa and we’ll see how it goes.”

“I do not wish courting you being sick with my mouth between your legs, Circe.”

Okay, well, that didn’t work.

I rolled into him, fighting the nausea as I ran my hand down his chest and then wound an arm around his back, whispering, “Lahn –”

Suddenly, he pulled in breath through his nose and he did this so sharply, I shut up.

When he expelled it, his eyes locked with mine and he whispered, “We ride on Maroo in two days.”

I closed my eyes and tipped my head forward.

I knew this and I didn’t want to talk about it. Not then, not ever. I’d be living it soon enough.

A second later, I felt his lips on my forehead so my eyes opened to see the beautiful column of his throat.

Against my skin, he said, “We could be on campaign a month or we could be on campaign a year. And you will be here and I will not.”

All right, he wasn’t pissed about the birth control discussion, he was worried. That was good. What was bad was, for my husband, I needed to talk about this and I didn’t want to.

“I’ll be okay,” I said gently.

“I know you will be okay.” His hand again pressed into my belly and I felt his mouth move from my forehead so I tipped my head back to catch his eyes. “But every day, he or she grows in you and this I will not see. You will grow heavy and I will not be here to watch your beauty bloom to be even more beautiful. And he or she could come and I will not be here to cut the connection and be the first being they gaze upon so they will know their father.”

“They’ll know you, honey, even if you’re not here. They’ll know.”

He stared down at me in mild affront, his brows drawn. “I must be at the birth. It must be me who pulls him from your womb. The first being a child must see, Circe, is their father. The first touch they must feel is the touch of their father. Their connection to their mother is established for months, their father must have those to establish his.”

Wow, that was beautiful. But as beautiful as it was, I was hoping for someone like a midwife who would “pull him from my womb”. Even the midwife serving a savage, primitive horde. My guess was my husband hadn’t handled or even attended very many births (as in, none) and she’d likely have experience I might need.

You know, just in case.

I decided it was wise not to share this.

Instead I sighed. Then I gave him a squeeze.

Then I said, “Well, you better kick some Maroo ass, baby, then get yours home to me…” I paused then whispered, “Safe.”

His eyes roamed my face for long moments before his lips twitched up.

“This is the plan,” he muttered.

I grinned at him.

He grinned back.

Then it faded and he whispered, “I must go.”

I nodded and waited. Then it came, his hand at my jaw, his thumb sweeping my cheekbone and his eyes wandering my face with such intensity it was like he was trying to burn the vision of it in his brain.

This happened every morning right before he left me since the day after the attack. This, I guessed (but did not ask), was an indication of a psychological wound he endured while riding hard to get to me after learning of a plot to murder me that included a traitor in his very own cham. Then arriving home to have his first vision of me being a me covered in blood. It was clear this had marked him deeply. And although it was a beautiful thing to think the very idea of my loss could wound him so severely, I hated that that wound was there.

I just didn’t know what to do about it.

So I did the only thing I knew to do. I pressed into him and smiled brightly.

Then I suggested, “How about this, I take your xac in my lisa when you get home tonight.”

The intensity in his eye shifted, then faded, then returned in a different way, then his arm curled around me and he pulled me deeper.

“You just made me a promise, kah bahsah,” he growled.

I pushed slightly up and, against his mouth, I whispered, “I won’t renege, kah bahsan.”

His eyes held mine for a heartbeat before his head slanted and he kissed me, deep and wet and I was really glad I used that twig.

When my toes had curled and my nipples had gone hard and I realized that I didn’t feel at all like throwing up in his mouth, he released my lips, lifted up, kissed my forehead and then he maneuvered his big body over mine and out of the bed. Then I watched over my shoulder as his fabulous body with his seriously fine ass walked to the bathroom-ish style room.

Then I rolled to my back and examined the state of my stomach.

I was fine.

I was about to call out to inform Lahn of this when a roil of nausea slid through.

Okay, so I wasn’t fine. Therefore, I didn’t call out to Lahn.

But I listened to him and watched him as he moved around in the other rooms and our bedroom. And as I listened and watched, I committed what I heard and saw to memory.

And I processed the last six weeks and I did this in an effort not to think about what the next six weeks (and longer) would bring.

* * * * *

We had stayed at our camp for two weeks after the attack. Lahn again mostly disappeared during this time as planning a war was obviously time consuming. But every day he woke me to say a very nice good morning then he’d be gone and I wouldn’t see him until my next good morning.

As he ordered, a new cham replacing our old one was sheltering me in a week (actually, more like five days). This one was made with darker, thicker fabric and had a variety of new poles. Where the other one just had those holding up the roof, this one had four in a star shape between each support so that even if a knife could cut through the fabric, there wasn’t enough room for anyone to squeeze through unless they chopped their way through the wooden supports.

Lahn was clearly not taking any chances. This felt nice. But, every time I saw those poles, it made me sad. I missed our old cham and I missed my Teetru as I knew her to be (not, obviously, who she ended up being).

I didn’t dwell on the sad.

Our cham was also bigger, perhaps two feet all around but two feet added to the circumference of a circular tent was a lot. It seemed cavernous compared with our old one.

I would understand this added room when our long, narrow table was not returned and one just as long but three times as wide was set in its place with four chairs around it rather than just two at the ends. Also, another chair with a small ottoman were introduced to our décor (yes, an actual chair!). The chair was heavy on the wood but the back and seat were cushioned and covered with rose velvet with a design cut into them.

These were spoils of raiding.

I didn’t think of that. I thought instead my new furniture was perfect for girls’ night in and I used them for this purpose. Copiously.

I also had a new slave (more spoils of raiding). Her name was Quixa, she was older than Jacanda and Beetus, younger than Gaal and Packa and she was Korwahk.

Jacanda, who had naturally taken over as leader of the girls after we lost Teetru (a surprise, I would have guessed Gaal or maybe Packa, but Jacanda was really good at it, the girls took to her and settled very quickly), took Quixa under her wing and was delighted with the addition.

And she told me Quixa was delighted too. And she explained why.

“Quixa is born slave and her masters were kind. But when they were travelling through Keenhak, their party was set upon by Maroo and her masters were killed. She was taken by Maroo and everyone knows that the Maroo treat Maroo slaves one way, all slaves from other nations another and not in good ways. She is happy to be in service to a Dahksahna and she is very happy to be home. These last three years,” she shook her head, “they have not been good for Quixa.”

Okay, well, I had to admit that made me feel better about Lahn stealing her from someone else while out pillaging. Not a lot better but it was something.

For me, things were business as usual, outside of Lahn being absent most of the time and the fact that my personal guard swelled from two to six. Lahn added Bohtan, Feetak and Char and Vuntus’s husbands Tark and Yoonan (respectively) to their ranks. This was explained one morning when I’d asked about his choices and Lahn had the time to answer.

“You share a bond with their wives. Through that they are bonded to you more than you simply being their golden warrior queen. This intensifies loyalty. Their wives want no harm to come to you because you are their friend. And these warriors hold deep feelings for their wives so they will make this so.”

I thought that was a nice way to look at it.

It was nicer when he went on.

“And they all came to me separately, knowing I would be seeking more protection for my Dahksahna, and they volunteered for this service.”

Definitely nicer.

I never went anywhere without at least two, but usually there were four of my guard with me and after what happened, their presence was definitely welcome.

During these two weeks, I saw three of what Diandra told me were “raiders” or “raiding parties”, in other words, groups of The Horde who went out marauding. They rode over the horizon to swell our ranks. In each raiding party, there were about a hundred horses all together (warriors and wives) plus their convoy of wagons. I also saw one “patrol” (again, this info gleaned from Diandra) which was a troop of The Horde that patrolled Korwahk to keep the civilians safe from other country’s marauders or to be on the lookout for invasion. Korwahk did it themselves but they did not countenance others doing it back. That said, it happened on more than the rare occasion so these groups found action often. The patrol had what looked like a few hundred horses (plus wagons).

Lahn explained to me that these returning warriors were the groups that were closest in location to the Daxshee and would ride with us. We had been waiting for their arrival and the day after the patrol joined us, Lahn announced we would be packing up the Daxshee and meeting the rest of Suh Tunak in Korwahn.

Korwahn, by the way, was the largest city in Korwahk, where all the members of The Horde kept permanent residences even if they didn’t spend much time in them.

It was a four day ride to Korwahn and the morning of the day we were to arrive, my girls gave me the business. I would not, Jacanda informed me, ride into Korwahn for the first time as Suh Rahna Tunakanahsa Dahksahna Hahla looking anything but head-to-toe queen.

I put my foot down about gold dust in my hair and my feathers (in other words, I did not intend to wear either). The Korwahk Horde rode as one, I wasn’t going to shine like a beacon while everyone else had four days of dust on them.

But I did don a sarong made of pure gold silk, my belt of gold disks, a gold silk fold of material tied around my breasts with earrings that were simply long, thin gold chains with a gold ball at the bottom and a matching choker necklace of a bunch of the same chains with intermittent balls adorning them. I had peach tint on my cheeks, peach gloss on my lips, pearlescent peachy eye shadow and I allowed them to dust around my temples and eyes with gold dust (because every girl knows, a little glitter was always okay, even if riding a dusty trail). I also allowed them to clip my curled, twisted hair in a fall in the back with a heavy, gold clip.

That was all but, I thought, that was more than enough.

I should have listened to Jacanda.

When Korwahn came in sight, Bain’s horse came back to mine and he plucked me off Zephyr, galloped us to Lahn, Lahn plucked me from Bain and planted me in front of him and away went Bain and Zephyr.

Apparently, I would ride into Korwahn at the lead with my Dax.

Lahn confirmed this with a squeeze of his arm and a murmur in my ear.

I didn’t make a comment; I was too busy staring at the two, large, stark, cream stone plateaus jutting into the blue sky in front of me. They were at a forty-five degree angle to each other with one slightly taller than the other, the shorter one jutting out further. And there was what looked like an enormous, jumbled, interconnected building made of cream mud and dark beams that rode up their faces and sprawled across the landscape.

It was phenomenal.

And that was from afar.

It got better up close.

The Dax’s Horde had been seen and therefore people had time to prepare. We were greeted boisterously by men, women and children who had run out of the city to do so. Therefore, when we reached what Lahn whispered in my ear was called the Avenue of the Gods, the podiums of the enormous statues that lined it were thick with people, all of them tossing petals at Lahn and me, crying out our titles and cheering.

Even if the colorful petals weren’t drifting through the air, the Avenue of the Gods that led into Korwahn would be breathtaking.

Starting at the wide end of a sweep of statues that curved to (somewhat) narrow, were two cream stone podiums at least the height of a man and on each was an identical stone woman (the height of at least three men and we’re talking Korwahk men) carved out of what looked like ivory marble. She was full-on pregnant, her big belly protruding over her sarong, her large breasts covered in a bandeau. One of her arms was curved under her belly, the other arm lifted, her hand held over her eyes as if blocking out the sun or peering into the distance to locate something (it was the latter, Lahn told me, the True Mother’s eyes were peeled for the return of her warrior). Her hair was long and fell in carved marble curls and twists but was adorned with gold clips all around, these looking they were made out of real gold and sparkling in the bright sun (and Lahn confirmed they were, indeed, real gold). There was also gold at her neck, her ears, her wrists and her biceps.

The next one in was a coiled snake, part of its long, thin body raised as if to strike. Its mouth was open and its fangs and thin, forked, protruding tongue were gold. The diamond-shaped markings down his back the length of the coil were also gold.

The next was a jackal, standing at attention, the spots on its back and tip of its bushy tail both gold.

Then came a grand, stately, reclining lion, its entire mane gold.

Then the horse, up on its hind legs, both front hooves clawing the air. Each hoof, its mane and tail all gold.

And finally, the tiger, carved on the prowl, its stripes gold.

They were fah-ree-king amazing. Every. Last. One.

And I told Lahn so (after I pulled out a petal that landed in my mouth).

It didn’t get better than that but it was still tremendously cool as Lahn and I rode a sedately walking Lahkan into the city.

And what a city.

It was a hustle and bustle of people; they were everywhere (as were the cheers and petal throwing). And I was not wrong about it from far away. Everywhere you looked, there were windows covered with wrought iron crosses and there were tons of doors. There was one wide road trailing through the city, some less wide ones leading off it but there were a bunch of narrow winding paths or steep, stone staircases that cut through the buildings. Mostly, though, it was all a bunch of buildings clearly built with no city planning in mind. They rose one, two, three, even six stories up, dark wood beams visible jutting into the sky or out the sides from the roof. All of it made from what looked like a cream-colored adobe.

Everything, in fact, was cream. The dirt and stone of the roads (not paved, just natural), walkways, the steep steps and the buildings, all of it.

But there was color. The wash lines that ran from building to building over roads or narrow pathways on which vibrant tops and sarongs hung. There were window boxes and brightly colored pots on small balconies and at the sides of doors that were filled with vivid flowers and trailing greenery (I had to say, there weren’t many of these, Korwahk clearly wasn’t filled with green thumbs – but there was enough to break up the cream, add a splash of color and give your eyes a beautiful surprise). The large squares that opened up off the main road were filled with market stalls that had colored tent tops over tables or striped awnings over stalls. And although most of the doors were bare wood, some were painted green, some red, some blue, some white, some black with blue, white and red stripes and some black (these were warriors’ homes, Lahn whispered in my ear as we rode, their doors painted to match the paint they wore on their bodies).

And the foot of each door held a small pile of blooms, a welcome home (again, whispered to me from Lahn), from the grateful citizens of Korwahn.

And as we road with petals drifting, The Horde that followed broke off when they arrived home or needed to turn down a lane so they could make it home so there were very few left at the top of the smaller plateau where Lahn stopped Lahkan at a double arched door that was painted in black with a glimmering gold stripe painted across them both. The only one with such markings that I saw and I was certain the only one with such markings in Korwahn.

Home.

At the sight of my gold and Lahn’s black on our door, my heart warmed and my belly fluttered. I was nervous and excited. I couldn’t wait to go through those doors and for some bizarre reason, I was scared to death at the same time.

I didn’t get a chance to puzzle through these emotions. Lahn dismounted, he pulled me off and then he took me inside.

It was cool inside; this was the first thing I noticed. The second thing I noticed was that there was a courtyard in the middle that was exposed to the elements and in it, with a beautiful mosaic-tiled base, was a small, gurgling fountain. All around the fountain and courtyard were colorful pots filled with spiked or trailing green plants. There were two stories and every door opened out to a balcony that faced or looked down on the courtyard.

The second thing I noticed was there was an older, slightly stooped, short, round woman approaching us. She had an abundance of coarse, steel gray in her dark hair, lots of wrinkles on her face and a bustling but economical manner.

I knew this had to be Twinka, the house slave Lahn told me about who looked after his residence while he was away.

And she didn’t like me, this I knew instantly, and I wasn’t sure she was all that hot on Lahn for she gave me a nod, Lahn a slight bow then stormed right by us without a word to stand outside the doors, plant her hands at her hips and scowl in the direction of the wagons that were coming up the rear.

“She was with my mother and father, this was their home too. She has called this home longer than I have and has spent vast amounts more time here than I have. She thinks of it as her own,” Lahn reminded me of something he’d told me the night before while we were lying under the stars on our hides.

“Mm hmm,” I muttered, staring at Twinka’s straight back.

“She does anything you do not like, I’ll whip her myself,” Lahn muttered back in Korwahk, my eyes snapped to him and Twinka, whose elderly status obviously didn’t affect her ears, harrumphed loudly.

I ignored the harrumph and hissed at Lahn in English, “You will not.”

“Meena,” Lahn said to me then his eyes turned to Twinka and he finished firmly, “kay jahkan.”*

I pressed my lips together.

Lahn’s eyes came back to me and he glared at my lips.

I unpressed them.

Lahn glare melted and he grinned.

I rolled my eyes.

Then Lahn turned to Twinka, “Uvoo kah Dahksahna el cuun, boh. Lee aka lapan ansha bel fahkah yo na geenheeso.”**

“Meena, kah Dax,” she muttered, stomping back our way, “kay pahnsay yo nahna tahnhan.”***

I couldn’t help it, at her muttered, skating on insubordinate words I pressed my lips together as my eyes grew big.

Lahn kept smiling at me.

“If you whip her,” I said in English, “I won’t speak to you for a week.”

Lahn’s smile faded before he replied in English, “If she does something to earn the tip of my lash, you will not do a thing.”

Oh right. I forgot.

“Right,” I whispered, “I forgot.”

Lahn looked at me a second, then he looked to the ceiling, likely for deliverance. Twinka made an impatient noise.

I took off for my tour.

Even if there was a lot of it, there wasn’t much to it. Lots of rooms, not a lot of furniture. Not that I could take too much in, Twinka was practically running, pointing at things, muttering words I barely caught, clearly thinking she had better things to do than give her new queen a tour and wanted to get this over with so she could boss around the girls when they arrived.

I did see they didn’t really have furniture in Korwahn. Mostly lots of cushions and thick rugs over tiled floors. Even the dining room-ish room had a long, very low table with twelve big cushions set on the floor around it. There was no room with a desk in it that would say “study”. There were six bedrooms and each had a bathroom-ish type room off it with chamber pot behind a screen and basin with jug of water and the master (I was guessing it was the master) had another room with a big, carved wood wardrobe and an actual chaise lounge. Each bedroom had real-ish beds, that was to say, the platform was two feet off the ground, the mattress was twice as thick as the one in our cham, there were twice as many pillows at the head and it was covered in silk sheets (no hides) and intricately embroidered silk quilts. But no headboard or footboard.

The best of the lot in the house was the bathing room off the master suite that was really like a bathing pool, with cool blue and green mosaic tiles and blue and green pads on the edges. The bath was big enough to swim in and had a big window that opened to a balcony that looked out over Korwahn and the vista beyond it. At my delighted intake of breath, Twinka grudgingly slid up a heavy, wooden door and a gush of steaming water flowed into the bath. I saw that the bottom of the bath had a slight decline and there were four narrow pieces of some gummy type substance that plugged up drains at the opposite end to the water.

“We have,” she stated haughtily in Korwahk, “a direct feed from the hot spring. We are,” she went on snootily, “one of only seven houses in all of Korwahn who have such a blessing.”

I nodded thinking blessing was the word for it. The water gushing in (before she slammed the door down again), was clear and clean and steaming and I could not freaking wait to take a bath.

Twinka stomped out, I followed her and we continued our tour. I noticed on the walls there were interesting paintings or sheets of copper or silver with designs pounded in the metal and even heavy, carved framed mirrors (and, seeing myself for the first time in months, I had to say, Korwahk sun, Jacanda painted face, love and pregnancy suited me – even I had to admit, I looked freaking great).

It was all sparkling clean and clearly well taken care of by Twinka who looked like she could keel over at any minute but moved like she was about twenty-three.

That was kind of it except for the square roof (with the courtyard hole in it) which was absolutely freaking awesome. It had a bunch of colorful pots, huge to very small, filled with spiked greens, trailing plants and vibrant flowers. It also had an area with what looked like lounge chairs for lazing in and catching the sun that had thick pads on them. Another area with a round iron table ornate with curlicues and four matching chairs. And the last area was an abundance of thick mats and huge, brightly-colored silk pillows.

Total oasis. The best spot in the house, no doubt.

After the roof, it was downhill from there and Twinka rushed me through a kitchen at the back that had what looked like a fire-burning oven as well as rudimentary stove and a long, battered table. Out the backdoor through a small, tidy courtyard (with more potted plants) was where the slaves quarters were, four small rooms, two on top, two on bottom, each room had two twin-sized pallets on the floor, two drawer wooden dressers beside each pallet with one, measly candleholder on each dresser.

Hmm. I was going to have to do something about that.

Packa, I had learned from Jacanda, had served Lahn the longest and took care of his food and cham needs prior to my arrival. He had purchased the rest of them at an auction two days before the Hunt (where many soon-to-be husbands saw to the needs of their future wives).

From Oahsee (who asked Bain who answered), I learned Lahn bought slaves prior to the other Hunts he attended but did not participate in as Dax then sold them immediately after when nothing struck his fancy.

Therefore, Packa was the only one who’d been there.

And by the time we arrived back in the courtyard area, Lahn was gone but my girls were there with trainee warriors lugging in our stuff from the wagon outside and the girls were looking around with awe.

The minute Twinka saw them, she opened her mouth to speak.

And the minute she did, I got there first.

See, I dug it that this was her place, I totally got that, but these were my girls.

And no one bossed them around.

In Korwahk, I quickly introduced my girls to Twinka, Twinka to my girls and then I announced, “These things can stay here for now. Twinka, please give my girls a tour of the house and then they’ll need some time to bathe, put on clean clothes, rest for a bit after that ride and have some food. After that, these things can be unpacked.”

Twinka squinted up at me with a mouth so tight it tripled the wrinkles surrounding it.

Then she muttered, “Gay na tahnay,”**** glared through my girls, then raced off.

They all glanced at me as they raced off after her.

I pulled in a breath and let it go.

Then I went in search of Lahn and found him coming out of the bathroom-ish room and into the master suite.

“Hey,” I said on a big smile. “I like your house. The roof is freaking awesome.”

“Dohno,” he muttered as he walked passed me to the door.

I instantly deflated and I didn’t even know I’d inflated.

Then I turned rather despondently to follow him with my eyes. I figured he had Horde and war things on his mind and was in king mode so he was away to do king things.

But okay, so sure, he only lived here two months out of the year so this probably wasn’t an important place to him and sure, he couldn’t know that in my world, a husband bringing his wife home for the first time was a big thing.

But still…

At the door, instead of walking through it, he grabbed it and threw it to.

Then he turned back to me.

Then I caught the look in his eye.

Then I gave him another big smile as he stalked toward me. Then I let out a laughing cry when he got to me and caught me up in his strong arms.

We tested out the bed first.

It was huge, it was soft and it was sturdy.

We tested out the bathing pool next.

It was divine.

* * * * *

Let’s just say Twinka didn’t like Ghost.

Like, at all.

And we’ll also say she didn’t like the familiarity, consideration, caring and casualness with which I treated my girls and flatly refused to respond positively to me doing the same with her.

But I didn’t care.

I was fucking queen.

I’d endured a Hunt. I’d witnessed a suicide-slash-execution. I’d watched a challenge for the Dax. I’d survived a bloody attack in my cham. I’d assisted in a minor medical procedure with only the most primitive of instruments at our disposal. I’d seen one of my girls beheaded. I had belatedly made one helluva match between a tiny, sweet, beautiful, timid Fleuridian girl and a dark, proud, taciturn Horde warrior.

I could create thunder, lightning, rain, flowers and rainbows.

And I’d made a savage brute fall in love with me in a month.

Hell, by his account, it was practically at first sight.

So she wasn’t going to fuck with me.

Therefore I ignored her and so did my girls.

It worked great.

* * * * *

Once settled in Korwahn, life went on as normal. I spent time with my posse (on my roof, their roofs, in my dining room, their dining rooms, in my courtyard, their courtyards, you get the picture). I wandered the city with my protectors. I met my people. I shopped in the marketplace.

Lahn came home for dinner twice and before I went to bed three times. Other than that, my man was busy.

This stunk.

But I was queen so I sucked it up.

* * * * *

When the morning sickness came, I gave up Korwahk wine. Lahn questioned this when I stopped him from pouring me a chalice at dinner and I explained in my world pregnant women didn’t drink alcoholic beverages as they’d noticed it affected growth in the womb.

His brows drew together at this but he didn’t question it further and he didn’t pour my wine.

By the by, the arrival of morning sickness, thus confirmation I was carrying his child was taken in stride by Lahn. I was freaked out but happy. He already knew in his pahnsahna I was carrying his child.

Still, I made him celebrate.

With the way I chose to celebrate, Lahn didn’t seem to mind.

* * * * *

We were in Korwahn because Suh Tunak was amassing there before they rode on Maroo.

We were also in Korwahn because Lahn had sent another message out to his brethren and that was that he was building an elite squad to be left behind in Korwahn to guard his golden queen (an elite squad, how cool was that?). Any warrior who wished to put himself forward for this squad would need to compete for it and they had to arrive by a certain date.

I was not allowed to go to the competition, it was warriors only. This was, Seerim told Diandra, because it might turn my stomach and Lahn knew firstly, I’d had enough of my stomach being turned and secondly, my stomach was being turned every morning.

So I was glad I wasn’t allowed to go. Though I didn’t much like the word “allowed”, I didn’t share this with Lahn.

Lahn did tell me my guard would number five hundred.

And he also told me fifteen thousand competed for these positions.

Yes. Fifteen thousand.

I was amazed and touched by this.

Then again, who wouldn’t be?

* * * * *

I got to attend the Ceremony of the Paint where the queen’s warriors painted each other with their new stripes (the Xacto, I’m sure, not there because of me and the other wives who attended).

I sat on my throne of horns in the massive clearing at the very top of the top plateau that was meant for official business and I watched as the warriors were painted with three thin black strips that curved from a point at their shoulder blade, over their shoulder to a point at their pectoral. Three more were painted from that point and around their arm to the front. And one thick gold strip was painted in the middle around the tip of their shoulder.

They did not wear this paint for ceremonies. They wore it every day.

Lahn told me they did it with pride.

I was amazed and touched by this too.

So much, I burst into tears.

Lahn held me until I cried myself out.

When I was done, I explained it was hormones. Then I explained what hormones were.

He looked at me like I was crazy.

Then, wisely, he let it go.

Zahnin was their commander. Bain, Feetak, Bohtan, Tark and Yoonan his lieutenants.

Narinda told me Feetak, a young warrior who’d only made his first kill nine years ago (which meant at sixteen years of age, um… yikes!) was very pleased at this huge jump in rank.

It meant more sarongs for her for Lahn was paying them all out of his own coin and it was more than they made raiding or warring (seriously, my man had to be loaded… I mean, five hundred warriors?).

It also made her happy.

So I was happy too.

* * * * *

Yes. I was happy. Korwahn was good. Life was good. The only thing that wasn’t good was morning sickness but that only lasted until around ten.

Everything else was good.

And would be for one more day.

Then my husband went to war.

* * * * *

“Kah Lahnahsahna, kah lipa,” Lahn muttered, I blinked and looked up at him.

It was time to do his hair.

He sat on the bed beside me and planted his hand in it on my other side.

“Do you feel well enough to do it?” he asked, his eyes on my (probably pale) face.

I did but I probably wouldn’t once I sat up.

But there was no way I was giving up the chance to have my fingers in his beautiful hair. Not now. Not when the day after tomorrow brought Lahkan to our door, Lahn on Lahkan’s back and my king riding off to war to avenge a wrong done me.

“Yeah,” I whispered, sucked in breath, got up and walked to the small trunk that held his gold bands. “How do you want it?”

“Bunched,” he stated, I nodded, grabbed what I needed and returned to the bed.

He moved to sit cross-legged on the floor by the side of the bed. I sat on the bed cross-legged behind him, gathered his hair and memorized the feel of it as I bunched it.

When I’d put the last band in, I circled his shoulders with my arms and rested my chin on one.

“You know I love you,” I whispered in his ear.

“I know,” he whispered back, turned, I pulled my arms away and he got on his knees in front of me, his hands framing my face.

I looked in his dark eyes.

“Do you know how much?” I kept whispering.

“How much, baby?” Lahn kept whispering too.

I bent my forehead to his and told him the truth. “More than my world.”

I watched his eyes smile. Then I felt his fingers press in my scalp. Then I felt the touch of his lips.

Then he gained his feet and he was gone.

 

*Translation: “Yes, I will.”

**Translation: “Give my queen a tour, now. The others will be here soon enough for you to boss around.”

***Translation: “Yes, my king, I live for your command.”

****Translation: “As you command.”