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Rated: E · Other · Fantasy · #1442210
With the fate of a nation resting upon her shoulders, Biatri flees to save her life.
Chapter 1: Naros


The beyar was, undoubtedly, the most awkward-looking animal in the whole of Gaia. It did not roam the entirety of the world, but was known to be abundant in Zerr and other northeastern coastal realms of the Bi ‘Denth Divide. Its gait was quite slower than a horse’s; its size half as tall. Though from head to tail, it was twice as long; and from side to side, twice as wide.

A beyar’s rugged muscles barely felt the weight it was subjected to as four or six of Zerr’s noble blood rode in comfort within each litter upon its all-but-flat back. If a horseman wished to ride abreast a beyar on an even road, he would have to keep in mind the animal’s sluggish pace and pull back on the reins of his mount more than naught to not overcome the beyar.

Nonetheless, if the path was uneven, even when the horse had to adjust its gait to compensate for the road’s shortcomings, the beyar seemed to neither care nor loose ground upon it. The greatest attribute of the beyar, however, was when crossing hills or mountains. Its toad-like paws grasped easily onto protrusions, rocks and branches, to help pull it up and over the obstacles along the way. It was on such grounds that the beyar could easily overcome a horse’s advance and beat it to the summit.

Unfortunately, there were no uneven or sloped roads from Neko, one of Zerr’s largest cities, to Foleker, a small village that was not even upon the map. A horseman could travel the distance in a matter of days; but a bayer took little over a week to accomplish the same, simple task. A caravan of bayers, however, took much longer, making what should be a light, enjoyable travel boring and tiresome. Such a monotonous journey was soon to become tedious to Biatri and her sisters.

Biatri was one of many daughters of Forticus Rodobo, a nobleman of Zerr. He was not high nobility. Nonetheless, though he was a lesser man in lineage, he was high enough to preside over Neko and command the nobility there. Many called him the highest of the low.

Whatever ranking he had, there was one thing no one could deny. He seemed to have an understanding with the master of the realm, king Timeth Oushe, that many nobles higher than he envied. It was no secret, this strange alliance that no one could explain; but it was a mystery. What did such a low noble have to offer to the emperor to have found such favor within his eyes?

Even Biatri could see the strange relationship; but though one of her father’s favorites, not even she dared to ask. There were, of course, rumors that ran rampant regarding this unusual association; but they were such horrible, distasteful rumors, that Biatri chose to ignore them. Regardless, it was because of this very relationship that they were heading to Foleker for the Festival of Rhen during the fifth month of the year, in the second week of Gemak. Her father had fancied a notion: to build a great, marble temple for Rhen in the heart of Foleker.

Biatri frowned at the idea, as did many in the Council. Foleker was so very small, so incredibly insignificant, that erecting a place of worship to the thime there seemed not only ludicrous but also a waste of time. Nonetheless, blue marble had found its way across the Konay Cridell Ocean to the southern border of Zerr. No one dared to question it, for Timeth Oushe was not a man to be questioned; and it had been he who had not only given the command but also financed the enterprise.

Slaves had been gathered from the very heart of the realm and all its mayor cities and were sent to Foleker. They worked breathlessly day and night for weeks on end, which stretched into months and turned into years, until the massive structure was completed.

Rodobo did not hesitate to have his mount brought to him and travel to Foleker when word had reach him that the temple was complete. He wanted to inspect every last stone that had been cast and laid, cut and crafted to rest assured that it was the magnificent shrine he had envision in which the opening ceremony of the Festival of Rhen could, indeed, take place.

Shelters had to be built to accommodate so numerous a quantity of workers. In order to not hamper the creation that Rodobo visualized, most of the lodgings were erected nearer the woods, and even spilled into them. Nonetheless, because Foleker was such a small village, the invasion of so many slaves changed its appearance dramatically; and when these were sent back to the cities of Zerr, they left behind them a strange, haunted feeling creeping among the now empty structures, which were being torn down by the remaining few before they, too, could venture home.

Rodobo saw this in a good light as an opportunity for Foleker to grow into the city he envisioned it to become. He was certain that the Temple of Rhen would bring countless Zerrians from other small towns and villages; even some from the cities. Having this in mind, he ordered for some of the shelters, those closest to the village, to not only remain standing but improved in such a way that it would be appealing for visitors to live there. He counted the days until Foleker became a city as big as Neko and dreamed of governing over them both.

“If we do not hurry, we will never make it in time for the Festival,” Tinetia pointed out as she stretched in place. She sat pouting on Biatri’s left and sighed in complete boredom as the gentle sway of the beyar dipped them from left to right.

“Father would not start without us,” Lizett remarked from across them both.

“Mother would never forgive him,” Biatri piped in and Agoneia, who sat by Lizett, nodded in agreement.

The four sisters were as different from each other as night and day. Tall, slim Biatri with wavy, auburn hair and hazel eyes was the easy-going, carefree sister that had no trouble turning men’s eyes upon her. Petite Tinetia’s straight, black hair and dark brown eyes would have made anyone question if she was, indeed, Biatri’s younger sister. She was quite more serious than the other three and worried constantly over insignificant details.

Lizett was the logical one. Though not as beautiful as the others within the litter, her piercing blue eyes and curly, blond hair was an exotic trait to find in the tropics and drew men to her regardless of her plump, short figure. Unlike Tinetia and Lizett, Agoneia, with her light, brown eyes and straight, brunette hair could easily be thought of as Biatri’s older sister since they shared much of the same delicate, facial bone structure.

It was no secret that they looked so much alike because their mothers were sisters. All four sisters had a different mother; but it was Lizett’s mother who had traveled from Toin’ Fak; Tinetia’s who’d come from nearby Wishek; and only, of the four within the litter, Agoneia and Biatri’s who were Zerr’s own.

The sisters had traveled together all the way from Neko. Although it was not unusual to change litters along the way, these four enjoyed each other’s company and were some of the few who could manage the entire journey in each other’s presence.

The observation brought a light into Lizett’s blue eyes. “That is true, First Wife must be present at the opening; otherwise, it would displease Rhen,” she said, as though the thought had not occurred to her.

“Father would never do a thing to displease Rhen,” Agoneia pointed out. “So, there is no need to worry, Tinetia. Besides, I heard we will arrive today.”

“You lie,” Biatri said, not accusingly but in disbelief.

“No, it’s the truth. Before we broke camp this morning, I spoke with a guard and he was convinced that we were making good enough time.”

The three sisters exchanged knowing glances. “Spoke with him this morning?” Lizett asked.

“Or, was it last night?” Biatri wondered.

“It was probably some time in between, before she threw him out of her tent!” Tinetia volunteered.

Agoneia’s eyes narrowed at her sisters as they laughed. “Funny, very funny,” she said, though there was no humor in her voice. “Besides, not everyone has a Naros,” she blurted, not knowing what else to say and wishing to silence them at once.

The effect the words caused was not the one Agoneia was looking for. They seemed to fuel Lizett and Tinetia’s laughter. It was Biatri who grew silent as the humor left her. At least they had served to quiet one of them.

“Come now, Biatri, it is all in good humor,” Tinetia nudged her sister.

Lizett frowned at Agoneia. “See what you’ve done? Now she’s worried.”

Agoneia shrugged her shoulders. “She has nothing to worry about. He will be very well looked after once she weds Genard,” she told them, winking at Tinetia.

Biatri wrinkled her nose at the statement. “Don’t even try to compare the two,” Biatri warned her. “Besides, who said I would let Naros go?”

The sisters giggled as they looked at each other. “It’s not common, true;” Tinetia said, “but it’s not unheard of, either.”

“Well, if you’re not going to leave him, the more reason to share him during the Festival of Rhen,” Agoneia reasoned. “After all, what better way to honor Rhen?”

Lizett was shaking her head, blond curls swaying this way and that. “I don’t think Father will approve,” she said seriously. “If it were someone other than Genard… but, Genard is the son of one of his Counselors.”

“Nephew,” Biatri was quick to correct.

Lizett frowned. “Well, he was raised by his uncle, so he might as well be his son,” she pointed out.

“If Biatri wants it, her mother will make sure that she may take Naros into the union.” They all looked at Agoneia. “She is the daughter of First Wife,” she added hastily, as though they needed the clarification. “If she wants Naros, she will have him, I’m sure of it. But if she can’t have him, as I said, he will be well looked after.”

There was much debate on whether or not Biatri would be able to keep Naros or if she would have to separate from him once she married Genard. Her sisters were adamant that Biatri did not even have to worry over such a trifle, little thing. Being the daughter of First Wife had its benefits.

In the wake of their attempts to ease her mind, they also strove to convince her that she should share Naros during the Festival of Rhen. Rhen would be pleased, they all argued over and again; and because of it, would shower her with many good things in her union with Genard upon sharing Naros.

“Biatri.” The laughter and giggles grew silent at the sound of the deep voice.

Biatri widened her eyes and smiled at her sisters before turning to the curtain and pulling it aside. A robust young man rode abreast the beyar. He had to pull on the horse’s reins constantly to slow the animal’s walk and not surpass the beast. “Have you seen it?” he asked, gray eyes sparkling.

“What?” she asked, perplexed.

He pointed into the distance. Gleaming blue marble towered over the jungle’s canopy. “Look, look,” Biatri called to her sisters as her face lit up. “It is breathtaking.” The temple’s uppermost cavity gave the impression that it was bigger than the whole of Foleker and she could only imagine that the village no longer existed.

He smiled at her, nodded at her sisters and then rode ahead. “Naros!” Biatri called after him and he pulled on the reins, returning to her side. “Will we be there today?”

“Before nightfall, I’ve been told,” he answered.

Her radiant smile lit up her face as green eyes unfocused in consideration of the thought. “It will be good to leave the tents,” she finally said.

“I will have a bath summoned for you upon arrival,” he promised.

She blinked and looked at him. He sat gracefully upon his mount’s back. His long, muscular legs dangled carelessly over the blanket upon which he rode. It was the same shade as the bayer’s fur, a light brown that bordered on yellow; and Biatri suspected that it was made of bayer hide. “I expect you will join me,” she said before allowing the curtain to fall back into place and retreating into the litter. Naros heard laughter as he rode away.


(View the map at www.RobinWhite.net.)

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