Third Daughter (The Dharian Affairs, Book One) Page 7

  Aniri frowned, afraid she had already misstepped. “I had assumed, with the marriage arranged, that our courtship would begin right away. At least, that is Dharian custom. Is it not the same in Jungali?”

  “Our courtship?” the prince said, like he had forgotten that part of the arrangement. “Yes, of course. Although in Jungali, courtship is usually chaperoned by family members.”

  Aniri became suddenly aware of their audience in the tight confines of the train car. Janak and Prince Malik’s personal guard, Farid, were in some kind of bluster standoff at the rear of the car. Farid rested his hand on his weapon, while Janak simply glared. Farid likely had no idea Janak’s hands were at least as lethal as Farid’s gun. Priya beamed, unabashedly listening in.

  “I suppose we will have to make do with the chaperones we have,” Aniri said stiffly.

  The prince took the chair opposite her, his face alight with curiosity. “I imagine we will have to break more than one custom to make this arrangement work.”

  Aniri noticed he now had two small gold hoop earrings, one in each ear. He was wise not to have worn them in her mother’s court, where the men did not wear jewelry—which only made her wonder what other things he had wisely kept hidden.

  “I hope you are comfortable in your train car,” the prince continued. “Is there anything I can request for you? The train staff seem quite happy to accommodate my needs so far, and I’m sure they would be doubly so for their beloved princess.”

  “I’m quite... comfortable, thank you.” She was far from comfortable, but there wasn’t anything the train staff could do about that.

  Prince Malik had a small smile on his face. “Does the princess have any further demands she wishes to make?”

  “No demands, simply a request.” Aniri met the prince’s slightly bemused expression with enough seriousness to make it fade from his face. “I’m afraid my education about the provinces of Jungali is woefully inadequate to the task of becoming Queen. I had hoped you might enlighten me on the important issues of the day, if you can spare the time.” She glanced at the papers layered on his desk.

  “Of course.” His pale eyes measured her for a moment, not unfriendly but in an appraising sense, as if he wasn’t quite sure if Aniri’s stated purpose was her true one. Or maybe she was just squirming because her subterfuges until now had been limited to sneaking out of the palace at night to meet Devesh. When Prince Malik spoke, his voice was softer, meant mostly for her, even if the others could be counted on to overhear. “You’ve made a great sacrifice for this peace-brokering arrangement, even more than I had suspected earlier. We will make sure it is a peace worthy of the price you have paid, Aniri.”

  Her face heated up. Of course the prince had witnessed Devesh’s desperate display of affection at the train station and the ensuing drama. That incident would feed the gossips for weeks and would no doubt complicate their efforts to forge, or at least appear to forge, a peace between their nations. It was foolish of Devesh on many levels, but Aniri was quite sure he knew all of that before he did it. In spite of her words, she knew Devesh was no fool.

  “Peace is my hope, Prince Malik,” Aniri said, conviction ringing true in her voice. The only way through this would be to work as fervently for peace as the earnest prince seemed to want. “Which is why I need to know more about your homeland before we arrive.”

  Prince Malik settled back on the tightly cushioned chair. “Well, there are four provinces—”

  “Bajir, Mahet, Rajan, and Sik.” Aniri listed them rapidly. “My education is not so woeful as that.”

  He smiled. “My apologies.”

  The train car swayed, and her tight traveling clothes conspired against keeping her balance on the stiff chair. She gripped the plush arms to steady herself. “What I need to know, Prince Malik, is the temper of your people. What will they think of our arrangement? I can’t help but wonder if they will accept a Dharian as their Queen.” She imagined the barbarians were awed and impressed by Dharian wealth, but she truly wondered what they would think of her, a Dharian princess, coming amongst them. She tried to banish images of her head on a pike being paraded amongst savage villagers.

  Malik’s smile fled, and the shadowed look he perpetually wore returned. “I worry about that myself. My home province of Bajir, especially, still mourns their Queen, my mother. While her rule was strong, the four generals who command the military in each of the provinces grow increasingly bold under my reign. You will notice that I am still a prince?”

  Aniri frowned. “I had assumed you had not held an ascension ceremony out of respect for your late mother.”

  “That is partially true.” Malik cast his gaze down to his hands, which had found each other and gripped in his lap. He seemed to force them to release, then looked up. “But the truth is I need the support of the generals to formally ascend to the throne. Or a wedding to a new Queen would make ascension automatic.”

  “I see,” Aniri said. “Will the generals then have to support the marriage?”

  “By our tradition, yes,” he said. “In reality? Had I married any of the eligible ladies in one of the four provinces, it would have sown discord among the generals, thinking I was preferring one over the other with my rule. Even worse, if I had picked someone from my home province of Bajir.”

  “So the very fact that I am not Jungali,” Aniri said, “is what makes this marriage possible.”

  “In a way, yes,” he said with a smile. “The generals will see this for what it is—a strategic bond with a powerful ally. They cannot do anything but accept it at its face: something intended to unite all the Jungali provinces.”

  Aniri frowned. “And yet you’re worried.”

  “It is the people I am most troubled about,” Malik said. “Winning their hearts will be your most difficult task, Princess. One I hope you will be willing to take on.”

  “I will do everything in my power to do so, I assure you.” Strangely, she felt the force of conviction behind that statement. She needed the facade of the impending marriage to hold, to give her time to find the weapon. And she would prefer not to have her head on a pike as well. “These generals, do they each command their own military? I hear the Jungali are fiercely loyal. Are you not concerned that they will incite their own people against me?” Aniri tipped her head toward the prince. “Against us, rather than taking the more obvious route of challenging you directly?”

  Malik smiled broadly. “The princess is even more astute than I had assumed.” Aniri wasn’t quite sure whether that was a compliment or not. Devesh certainly never thought strategy, political or military, was ever her strength. “I am concerned,” he continued, “which is why I’ve already scheduled an announcement of our engagement in front of the populace in my home province, quite literally as soon as we arrive. I wish to waste no time in introducing you to my people. A formal engagement party can follow in two weeks, the wedding in four, according to custom.” He tipped his head to her. “According to Jungali custom.”

  “Dharian custom is the same,” Aniri said. “Should we perhaps travel to the other provinces as well? A goodwill tour of sorts? That is, if your customs allow it.” Traveling seemed like a better idea the more she thought of it. She might gain access to the prince’s inner sanctum, if she was lucky, but she doubted he hid the flying weapon under his bed. Getting away from the capital could bring an opportunity for more investigation.

  Malik raised his eyebrows. “We can certainly accommodate traveling the provinces, if your majesty wishes it. Although...” He frowned again.

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t want to alarm you, princess, but...” He hesitated again. “I would just want to ensure your safety before planning trips around the frozen landscape of the provinces.”

  Aniri swallowed. Her safety wasn’t from the landscape but the generals, she suspected. “Perhaps we should wait to see how things develop, then.”

  Malik took a breath. “I think that would be best.”

  Aniri
rose from her chair. “I’ll leave you to your planning then, Prince Malik.” She made a small bow as he hastily arose from his own seat. “I apologize for the sudden intrusion.”

  “Anytime, princess, please. We are, after all, courting.” He smiled, but the earnest look quickly took over. “And your counsel on these matters is greatly appreciated.”

  Aniri bowed again and turned to retreat from Prince Malik’s car. She needed to think about how to win over a barbarian people she knew nothing about.

  While at the same time betraying their prince.

  They arrived at the foothills of the northern border of Dharia where the land broke and transformed itself from a garden of rich soil and stable villages to a mountainous, forbidding land shrouded in mystery and gloom.

  At least that’s how it appeared to Aniri.

  She stood on the train station platform, waiting for her parcels to be unloaded, and stared up at the fourteen-thousand-foot peaks disappearing into the clouds. Already the temperature had dropped from the balmy summer warmth of the central plain. Priya had unpacked a light wrapping coat, and Aniri cinched it tighter around her neck. The mountains were growing dark from more than simply the clouds that topped them. It would be nightfall soon.

  “Are we traveling on tonight?” Aniri asked Priya when she returned from consulting with the prince’s bodyguard, Farid.

  “Yes,” Priya said, slightly breathless.

  The train tracks ended where they stood, literally stopping at the foothills and the border between nations. It struck Aniri as strange there was no rail connection at all between Dharia and Jungali, just a weathered road of gravel that disappeared into the foothills. How could there be trade between their countries when they didn’t even have a way to connect the goods?

  “And by what means are we traveling?” Aniri asked.

  Priya’s smile was mischievous with adventure. “That.” She pointed to the end of the train platform where a beast the size of a small cottage stood. It was draped in bright red embroidered cloth from the tip of its enormous, snuffling black nose to the blunt rear end. Its lumpy head and two giant horns were painted with elaborate swirls in shades of red and gold to match the embroidery, and its six legs the size of pillars were clad in shiny brass plating. The beast moved like a giant royal carpet and carried what looked like a miniature carriage on its back.

  “You cannot be serious,” Aniri said softly, mostly to herself. Of course she recognized the shashee—it was, after all, an incarnation of the mountain goddess Devpahar, embodying her supposed stately wisdom in its great, lumbering movements. In the traditional stories, Devpahar used her great horns to remove obstacles that might thwart the advancement of peace and learnedness. Aniri had seen drawings of the goddess’s material form, but she had never seen one of the shaggy beasts in person. They were rare and confined to the mountains. And she certainly had never expected to ride one.

  “The prince had to make arrangements for a half dozen extra beasts, just to carry your luggage, your majesty.” Priya seemed delighted with this.

  “But...” Aniri stalled out in her protest as the beast bent down one of its six legs, then another, slowly collapsing its shuddering hulk to the ground. When it had settled, like a massive, red landslide, the ornate carriage on top was nearly level with the train station platform. A servant whisked a step stool next to the beast and beckoned her with a fervent wave of his hand.

  Priya leaned closer. “That’s our ride, your highness!”

  Aniri gaped but allowed Priya to guide her forward. A driver of sorts, or perhaps a beastmaster, sat atop the carriage, a slender pole in his hand that he tapped intermittently on the beast’s carpeted head. Its wide head rolled at the intrusion, rocking back and forth, but its body didn’t move.

  Janak held the four-step stool as Aniri and Priya climbed up. He followed them into the carriage, which smelled of fresh hay and wood, and not the stench of raw animal that she expected. Once the door shut soundly behind them, the beast lurched, forcing Aniri to grip a rough wooden handle in the middle of the seat. They tipped sideways, then righted again, all in one rolling motion that made the endless rocking of the train seem like a paragon of steadiness.

  When she dared to peer out the tiny portal windows, the train station had swung out of their view. They were high in the air, already lumbering away.

  Priya gawked out her portal, chattering while Aniri tried to keep her lunch down. “The shashee are the royal animals of the Jungali. The driver told me they once were the main transportation for the Jungali people throughout the provinces. Now they are reserved for the borderlands and for Devpahar’s festivals. This shashee is much more highly decorated than the one the prince is riding, my lady. I believe this must be his personal shashee, or at least a royal one of his court.” Priya frowned when she looked to Aniri. “Are you feeling well, my lady?”

  Aniri swallowed down the sourness at the back of her throat and kept her gaze out the window. It helped, slightly. Aniri breathed out her answer, “Yes, I’ll be fine. Where on earth is this beast taking us, Priya?”

  “Why to Jungali, I imagine, my lady.” Priya went back to staring in wonder at the darkening mountains outside, as if Jungali were a magical place, so naturally they would ride a painted beast of the gods to get there.

  As the rocking of the animal reduced to a gentle swaying motion, Aniri’s stomach began to settle. She hazarded a glance around the interior, noting the plush red velvet of the walls, the thick glass of the windows, and the brass and wood trim at every corner. It certainly seemed lavish for a regular transport. Aniri poked the cushion and trailed her finger across the soft crush of fabric lining the walls, hoping for a hidden panel or compartment. Perhaps Prince Malik had stashed some of those communiques he had been so earnestly studying in his train car, but she found nothing.

  Janak seemed satisfied that all was safe and secure in their tiny traveling cabinet, judging by the way he had tucked his chin down for a nap. The terrain outside quickly fell to darkness as they climbed the foothills. The path outside was lit only by the swinging spotlight of the oil lamps hanging from the corners of their carriage. It didn’t seem wise to travel through the mountains at night, but on top of the giant beast, they felt untouchable by any threat.

  She could see now why Dharia’s steamer tanks wouldn’t be able to penetrate the foothills. The canyons were narrow, the rough road steep and narrower still, and there was little room for mechanized transport, especially the kind that relied on steady flat terrain. Surely their cavalry could climb the foothills as well as this shashee, but if the Jungali possessed war animals—armored not with ornamental brass and red carpet, but steel plating—they could prove formidable in the winding canyons.

  The lights of the carriage danced around the darkness of the canyon, and they traveled some time in silence. Finally, a rapid series of taps from the front heralded an end to the swaying. Even though the beast was finally motionless, it was as if the ground still moved beneath her. It reminded her of the day her father had taken her out in a small skiff, sailing a peaceful, blue bay off the western coast. She had adapted to the gentle swells of the water, but when she returned to land, it was as if she had never walked before.

  When the carriage door opened, Prince Malik himself appeared standing on a steel lattice outside. “Did you fare well with the travel, your highness?” Gaslamps hung from a large stone fortress behind him and put a halo of light around his face.

  “I am fine. Are we arrived to Bajir already?”

  She could just barely make out his smile in the dim light. “No, not yet. This is only a trading station, the first stop on our journey. But we will make rest here tonight and continue on in the morning.” He held out a hand to her, and she tentatively took it. His grip was strong, which helped her unsteady legs as she joined him on the portable stairs. “I’m sorry for the steps, princess, but it is the best I could acquire on short notice. The stationmaster initially brought a ladder, but I ordered him away.”


  “I’m not a delicate flower, Prince Malik,” Aniri said. “I could negotiate a ladder.”

  “I have no doubt of that,” Malik said, “but I don’t think your gown would survive it.”

  She glanced down at the finely woven, tightly wrapped silk dress and nodded. “I’ll make sure to wear more suitable clothing for the rest of our journey.”

  He didn’t answer, focused on helping her down the steel stairs, each step creaking under their combined weight. He released her as soon as she was safely on the ground. His bodyguard loomed next to him.

  “Farid will ensure you and your entourage make it safely to your rooms, princess,” he said. “I have business to attend to, but I will meet you at the east cable station after your morning meal.”

  Janak and Priya had joined them on the cobblestones outside the trading station’s massive wooden doors. Janak had resumed his glaring contest with Farid from earlier in the day, and Priya seemed wide-awake. She was already eagerly exploring their destination with her eyes.

  Fatigue pulled at Aniri’s eyelids. “Cable station?” she asked Prince Malik. “Do you send messages by cable?” The Queen used her aetheroceiver for secure transmissions, but most of the Dharian countryside still used wired transmission for their communiques.

  “No, your highness.” This time Aniri had no trouble seeing the prince’s smile. “We are the ones who will be traveling by cable.” He took a step back, bowing slightly with hands pressed, and left her with that mystery.

  She followed Farid and Janak. Priya’s arm hooked through hers in an entirely too familiar fashion, but she allowed it because it was quite possible she would fall over—either from fatigue or the residual unsteadiness from the shashee ride—without Priya’s arm holding her steady.