Kalasin

Being a Queen means nothing in this place.

The most beautiful woman in the world turned to her two companions. "I'll not be long. Hold them off me."

The two K'miri saluted her, the woman grasping her hands. "May Chavi West wind carry your words wide. Goodbye old friend."

The woman turned and assumed a guard stance,

Kalasin climbed the steps of the tower. One by one. All too soon she reached the top.

The village wasn't shaken at its roots by the arrival of this baby. Born to the tribe's elder and his wife, a not especially happy or unhappy match. The K'miri Hau Ma was a proud tribe, and brought up it's youngsters in its traditions and its ways of honour. Even then, the promise of her beauty showed.

"Kally! Kally! Catch it!" The long throw was coming too fast. Kalasin jumped and twisted her body feeling the ball in her fingertips. Then her palms closed around it, clasped tight. She fell to the dusty ground and raised her hands. A wild cheer erupted from her teammates. She clambered up, grinning and participated in their celebration of victory. Which was all too quickly spoiled by the strident voice of her mother.

"Kalasin? Where are you?" The woman rounded the corner. And pursed her lips. "Come here. You're a disgrace." She beat ineffectually at the dust and dirt covering the young girl. "You'll never find a husband looking like that."

"Ma. I'm twelve. You needn't start worrying about husbands yet."

"A mother always worries about husbands." She hugged her daughter close. "Come and get washed. We've guests for dinner."

Dressed as a proper K'mir child, a demure young lady, Kalasin felt a million miles away from her friends. They would still be finishing the game, perhaps moving onto something to do with their own imaginary world that they locked Kalasin out of. She supposed it was fair and well being their friend, but they didn't want her as a best friend. So she smiles, turned to her father's guests and offered to bring them something to drink.

At twelve, she was too old for childish games anyway.

Her father had many guests. The K'mir was a violent people, often warring and settling debts by blood. Yet they had an exquisite sense of honour, and were able to offer an enemy sanctuary and food. The Elder most often had the responsibility of caring for these enemies. It was true this one very special time.

A group of plainsmen had become lost in the mountains during a storm, and the tribe had came across them. Begging sanctuary, the strangers were led to Kalasin's father's hut, and given tea and bread. Kalasin was called upon to entertain them. Her mother had made sure she had become an accomplished singer and dancer. At the end of the evening, one of the men had turned to her.

"What is your name? How old are you?"

"I am called Kalasin and I am twelve."

"Thank you child. My name is Sarhaim jian Cadao, and I am delighted to meet you. You are very accomplished."

Kalasin just bowed her head in thanks and left.

She sneaked back later to hear her father and mother discuss the men.

"They were Southern nobles. The Warlord's men. We should have killed them." That was her mother.

"No. They claimed sanctuary. And did you see the way that the Warlord's cousin looked at our Kalasin."

"She's only twelve. I won't have her married already. And not to a Southern uppity plains scratcher."

"No. Not to him. But maybe to the Warlord? He's looking for a bride. Two more years and Kalasin will be a match for any man."

"She is beautiful."

"And accomplished. And think how good it will be to have a K'miri Queen. She could stop these Southerners butchering our men. Make peace." She could hear the speculative gleam in her father's eye.

Kalasin had always expected to have an arranged marriage. But to the Warlord. She had heard he was a cruel and unwise ruler. It was a thought that remained at the back of her head, being ruminated over. It was an idea.

She knew she would be unable to finish her embroidery in time for her father's birthday. It was going to be a complicated piece, and she was unhappy to be interrupted by her mother's call.

"Kalasin! Put on your best gown. We have a visitor."

She grumbled, but obeyed. Maybe it was a trader and she could get some new ribbons or thread from him. She was unprepared for the sight before her.

A full half squad of horsemen, mounted on glorious white horses stood before her, lining the road. The foremost carried a banner with the Warlord's emblem on it. And riding up the centre came two men mounted on well cared for horses. One was their visitor of two years ago - Sarhaim jin Cadao, she remembered. She didn't know who the other man was. He was very handsome.

Kalasin had no idea what an impressive picture she made to the two approaching men. Her deep emerald dress, simple, yet fit for a queen, contrasted against her midnight hair and fair skin. She was the most beautiful woman in the world.

The aristocrat's companion was smitten. "Is that her?"

"Yes Sire."

"You've got good taste, my cousin. What's her name?"

"Kalasin."

"I like that too. My own little savage." He smiled, and his cousin shuddered at the cruelty inherent in Adigun jin Wilima's eyes. He was the most powerful man in the land, and he knew it. He could also be all sweetness and light when he tried. And he tried with Kalasin.

Her mother immediately saw through the facade of the man in front of her. She knew he would beat her daughter, and not pay any attention to her. This was not the sort of husband she had in mind for her daughter. Unfortunately it was the kind of husband that her own husband wanted. A rich and powerful man. And who was more powerful than the Warlord. The dowry was struck that very afternoon.

In three months, Kalasin would become Queen of Sarain.

The Great Mother could not have asked for a more sumptuous wedding. There were guests from all the neighboring kingdoms Even Carthak sent a representative - the heir presumptive Ozorne. There were musicians and only the most expensive of feasts, with quails eggs from the far south and fresh fish magiced to Sarain from the Yamani Islands.

The Bride's dress was rumored to have cost a thousand golden nobles and was white lace with gold lame trim. The Warlord wore his robes of state - austere brown riding gear, but of the finest leather and satin. There was dancing until dawn and drinking even later. The entire city seemed to burst into flower as it welcomed its new Queen.

All to soon, the feeling wore off. Kalasin was treated as no more than a gormless barbarian and even her ladies in waiting laughed behind her back. She was lonely, yet too afraid of her husband to ask for some of her friends to visit. She was forbidden riding and fencing, and expected to embroider all day long. As her fingers fumbled at the fine cloth, she would listen to the other women chatting. She rarely knew any of the people they gossiped about and even rarely joined in. She was never by herself, but had never felt more alone in her life.

When she fell pregnant, there was more feasting and drinking, at which the Queen was silent and withdrawn. The nobles put it down to her arrogance. One good thing to come out of the hated thing she carried with in her, was a slight indulgence on her husband's part. She was to engage a wet nurse for the child, and Kalasin found a K'miri woman who had just given birth. Her family had moved to the city to sell the horses her tribe raised. This Hau Mau woman became Kalasin's dearest friend.

The child was naturally a daughter. The Warlord was not pleased.

"A son! An heir! That's what I need. Not a girl." He stormed about the throne room, and a week later, redoubled his efforts with his young wife. Many years passed, and no more children were forthcoming. Eventually, his unwelcome attention strayed to other women, and Kalasin and her daughter were mostly left alone again. Apart from the family of Hau Mau, who moved into the palace after the father died. A mother, her boy and her girl, Buri.

The day that Thayet found out about true freedom, was the day the Shang came to the capital of Sarain. She had almost hidden from these tall, proud warriors, but one of them had noticed the timid girl.

"Child? You must be Thayet."

The girl was so surprised to have someone pay attention to her that her answer squeaked out unexpectedly. "Yes, and who wants to know?"

"I am the Shang Tiger. Will I growl at you to make you come out?" The man made a funny face, and the child laughed.

Her mother looked alarmed. Kalasin had not known that Thayet had followed her to this reception.

When she saw the child talking to one of the clever fighters, she ceased to worry. They would protect her from the rest of the court. She turned her attention to the two visitors in front of her.

"A lady knight, you say?"

"She hid her sex and everything, if you'll pardon my language your highness." Kalasin gestured him to continue. "She apparently defeated the Duke of Conte in a duel."

"She must have some skill then. I'll grant her that. Roger was a fearsome swordsman when he visited here a long time ago." Kalasin noticed her husband striding across the room.

"The King is apparently going to let her keep her shield." She nodded politely, as her husband entered the conversation.

"We'd not let that happen here. Only female barbarians fight here. Isn't that right, wife?" The court snickered appreciatively behind hands, handkerchiefs and fans.

"And the brave Shang Warriors, husband." She looked at the group standing aloof. She almost wished she were a part of them.

Her lord and master turned to the rest of the court. "So what would we have done with her here?" A few voices raised in support of exile, but they were swiftly drowned out by calls for death by torture. Thayet tugged the Tiger's tunic. "Is Tortall really like that?"

"What do you mean, little one?"

"Is it free? Do they let people do what they want?"

"Except for the bad ones."

"Here, the bad ones do what they want. I think Tortall sounds like the most wonderful place in the world."

Kalasin was shocked to find her daughter crying on Buri's shoulder, not too many moths later. Her daughter was growing up so fast, and soon she'd be of marriageable age. She had been thinking about that as she swept along the restricted corridors of the palace.

"Thayet? What's wrong?"

"My father has the Priests in the temple say prayers for a son. Every morning and night." The words came out in heaving sobs. The younger girl looked at the Queen in worry.

"She heard some chamber maids chatting." Tough little Buri made fists and refused to cry with her friend.

The Queen was determined to face the man who was her husband.

"How can you expect to have a son! I sleep at one end of this palace, and you sleep at the other. You and your chamber maids..." Kalasin screamed at the Warlord.

"My son does not need to be full-blooded." Adigun Jin Wilima looked at the papers in front of him.

"Let your daughter's husband inherit then." Kalasin tried to garner any reaction for her unwanted daughter. She tried to reason with him. "You can choose an able, rich man. A strong warleader."

"And be murdered for my throne the day after the honeymoon. I think that you have no idea of the real world, woman." The last word was an epithet.

"Thayet is brilliant. She loves you - do you not see this?"

"What is love to a King?" He was dismissive.

"You talked of love when you wooed me." She pleaded again. She wept and held her arms in front of her, knee bent.

"I talked of anything to gain your hand." He stood and brushed her hands away. "Guards!"

"What!? You cannot remove your pitiful wife yourself?" He grabbed her by the hair.

"If I removed you the way that I wanted, there would be war." And with that, he tossed her into the waiting guard's arms. "Seal her within her quarters."

That night, three K'mir camps were razed to the ground. Naturally the Palace blamed Separationists. There were reprisals, and the Warlord ordered the K'miri not to gather in large groups, for their own protection. A host of other restrictions were also placed that fateful night. It seemed to be the final insult.

Kalasin daughter,

I do not ask you this lightly. Your father is an old man now, and the new tribe elder wants war. He is young and foolish, but he sees it as the only way to stop the Warlord's destruction of our people. We cannot meet, and we cannot sing the songs of mourning or birth. The festivals go uncelebrated. The Balance is being upturned.
I ask you to demand your husband halts his troops, and stops his decrees. Or else, Sarain will be no more.

Mother

"But Mother? How can we beg him? A K'miri never begs."

"Needs must, Thayet. War must never come to Sarain." They were standing in Kalasin's quarters, overlooking the capital city. "Come to the window. Do you see this city? Do you see it's wealth and it's jewels? What would happen if there was no wealth? What would happen if our kinsmen came into the city, and burnt it to the ground." Kalasin's eyes let fall the tears she had been holding back.

"But mother..." Thayet's expression betrayed the horror she imagined.

"No buts Thayet. You are half a lowlander. You have some of his blood in your veins. He must recognize that." Thayet was no longer sure if her mother was even talking to her. "We will give it one last try."

As the guards conveyed them into the presence of his most divine highness, Warlord Jin Wilima, Kalasin felt her heart sink. His mind was already made up. She could see a new pile of decrees sitting ready for his seal. She knew she had to try though.

"Husband. I apologize for my behavior and I beg of you not to harm my people farther."

"Your people? You are a Wilima now. You are no longer a barbarian." His sneer said it all.

"Father... Please? There will be war." Thayet trembled in front of him.

"Half-breed female." He spat at her. "You should be a son. If you were a son, this would never have happened." Thayet stiffened her face, and refused to cry.

"Husband, it would have. Your restrictions, they drive us to it. Please, will you not reconsider."

"Never." And his guards seized them and dragged them from the room.

"So mote be it." Kalasin whispered under her breath.

"Thayet, love. You know you are the dearest thing in the world to me." Kalasin grabbed her child desperately.

"Yes, mother." Thayet hid her face in her hair.

"Never be ashamed of who you are. You are a K'miri. Your blood runs deeper than the oceans, and it will sustain you through anything." Kalasin forced her head upwards. "I love you, daughter. Now stay with Buri." Kalasin looked deep into her daughter's eyes. And then sped away from her, as Panthom called, "They're gone. Hurry now."

"Where are you going?" Thayet's last question was left unanswered, as her mother and Buri's mother and brother left the room.

The corridors were eerily empty, as the trio hurried towards the highest tower in the city. It was market day, and most of the guards were in the other side of the palace, watching the hustle and bustle. The tower steps seemed to go on forever, but swiftly Kalasin bade her companions to guard the door. She ascended the steps, her mind already composing her final words.

She stepped onto the windy balcony, and clambered around the parapet until she was facing the market square below her. A few arms were raised pointing in her direction. It would not be long before the guards noticed then. It was now or never. She took a deep breath, and began to chant.

"I came to you a barbarian, and I became one of you.
I no longer am one of you.
I discard my husband, for he has shamed me.
I discard your ways, for they have brought me here."

Too slow, she needed to tell them why she was doing this. Why this was the only option she had left.

"My people are proud. My people, have known pain.
They have fought alongside you, Yet you treat them like dogs.
You shame them into corners, and raze their lands to the rock.
You will remember them now, and will know whom you do wrong."

Not much time left, she could hear shouts of horror from the Market place, and the sound of fighting behind her. She told the crowd of her shame, of the injustice. She poured her heart out into the crowd, and they were forced to listen. She could hear booted feet on the steps now. And then she could see hands reaching from he balcony. She whispered a quick prayer to the gods.

And Kalasin jumped.

Thayet was inconsolable. Her life was ended. Buri stood guard over her day and night to make sure she did not get near any weapons, or indeed any sharp objects. When the funerals arrived, both girls clung to each other in grief, knowing that the last real family they had were now dead.

Arriving back at the apartments, Thayet found them bare. A guard informed her that her father had moved her belongings to a small suite further inside the place, and led them there. Thayet defiantly wiped the last remaining tears from her eyes.

"Today was the last day of my childhood, Buri."

"And of mine." The younger girl firmly vowed. They clasped hands on it.

And one night, around six months later, they crept out of the palace, never to return.