Stations of the Tower

by Xhaos01

Chapters links for this page: 1 2 3 4 5

Chapter 1

Ki'a was a servant girl. Born the child of a servant girl and a soldier, she was easily overlooked and quickly forgotten as a child. Dark of hair and skin, light of eye, she was not unique by a long shot. She looked like any of a thousand other servant girls in the palace, laden with laundry or dishes, she scurried around the back halls of the great princes palace at the edge of the Mohaine desert. It was the site of the last great oasis before the deadly dry sands went on forever, it was said. None who ventured into the sands ever returned.

None knew where the palace had come from, it had been there as long as any could remember, a vast, insurmountable edifice that looked over the white sands and could be seen an eternity away. It was said that all within sight of the Princes Tower was under the dominion of the palace. And once could travel in a straight line for a week and a day and still see the great tower where it stood at the edge of the valley. All the way from the Mohaine desert to the Sunspire mountains, the tower of the princes could be seen.

But this tale isn't about the Palace, or the great tower, or even the vast and lethal Mohaine desert. It was about an often overlooked servant girl, who was no different than any other servant girl in the hundreds or thousands that worked day and night in the palace. She grew from babe to child in a carrier on her mothers back in the palace, and from child to teen fetching soaps and such for her mother in that palace, and from teen to young woman there. Working beside her mother and it was as a young woman, lovely and dark as so many other young women were lovely and dark, that she caught the eye of a young man.

And he was not just any young man. He was a prince. Some day this entire palace, and all within sight of the great Princes tower, would be his to rule. As his father before him and his father before him, and his father before him for in that land, and in that time, blood was thicker, than water. But not more precious. In that time, blood dictated the lineage of rulers, and the lineage was longer than the great Princes Tower was tall.

And the princes in that time, secure in their power, within the great palace, had begun to grow arrogant. The palace was unassailable. For there was little water within reach of the palace for twenty miles in any direction. And none for as far as man could travel across the Mohaine. And beneath the palace were the great cisterns, more water than the great lakes in the Sunspire Mountains. It was an inexhaustible source of water. And it was the true wealth of the young prince. For on his sixteenth birthday, all the water in the great cisterns became his. Other wealth in the palace was that of his father, but the water, the true wealth of the empire, was his. And the greed and power that already kindled in his heart grew a thousand-fold on that day, when the great silver key that unlocked the cisterns was placed about his neck.

And it was on that day he noticed Ki'a. she was fifteen herself, young and lovely, just coming into the flower of her womanhood. She was slight and willowy as all women in that land were, and did not posses the greater curves and more pendulous breasts of the women from the Northland, with their golden hair and long legs. But in this land, between valley and desert, she was a gem. And one easily overlooked in a sea of similar stones. But the prince, Sithar by name, had an eye for gemstones. And Ki'a caught his eye. He smiled when he saw her, and sought to make a conquest of her.

One eve as she entered a room, from which an important aristocrat had departed, Sithar came upon her alone. She bowed and made proper servitude to the prince, waiting for him to allow her to return to her work. She was nervous, for the price was lovely to her eyes, slightly androgynous in face and shape, he was graceful and courteous bidding her rise.

* * * * *

"Rise, girl, do not allow me to distract you from your work, by any means. Tell me only your name, lovely child." His voice was smooth, like velvet or wine in her ears, and she found herself blushing as a tingle stole over her skin.

"I am called Ki'a, my prince. Daughter of Shallah and Kierian." The flush crept over her skin and she found herself unable to look up at the prince. Knowing his blue eyes were upon her, but not being, herself, of an age considered appropriate for marriage, not for another full year, she did not understand such a look. He, for his part, felt a momentary pang of conscience. But he quickly stamped it down. But it is important to mention it, for credit should be given where credit is due. Then he made his loveliest smile and reached out to turn her face up to look at him, eye to eye.

"Tell me then, daughter of Shallah, light of the eyes of Kierien, how many summers have you seen?" He knew full well the effect his smile and his eyes had on women. And he used it to full effect here.

"Fifteen, my prince." She said to him, the flush creeping further along her neck and cheeks, and her hands clasped behind her, fighting the urge to touch him, to feel his warmth and softness. His hand released her cheek and he nodded, leaving her then. She felt a few deep breaths hitch in her chest as he walked away, but quickly returned to her work, knowing that this would take her mind off of her inappropriate thoughts of her prince. Wishing that his lips would kiss her, that his hands would touch her, that his weight would press her into this very bed.

As I have said before, she was an innocent girl, unadorned by the tattoos of a house or name, the prince had a family name, Kirashe, but as an unwed woman, Ki'a had merely her name, and that of her parents, to give. The prince, with the rising sun sigil in the center of his forehead, would want for nothing. She would likely wed a soldier, or a servant, or a craftsman, if she were lucky, and bear him a child or three. But the thoughts she had, the tingling in her breasts and thighs, the flush and the shake in her hands, this was a mystery to her.

* * * * *

It was several weeks before he returned to see her again, his lust firmly in hand, he meant to have her. She was again high in the great Princes Tower, cleaning a room that had been recently vacated, and as she stood, looking out over the great soft feather bed that she had just finished changing. She felt warm, smooth hands on her arms, strong and slender, she gasped as she was pulled back against the princes body. He was wearing the silken robes of his status, and she was in the kidskin garment that all servants of the house wore. It had a line of horn buttons up the front, keeping it closed over her bare skin underneath. She felt her breath coming a little faster, that tingling coming back to her breasts and thighs, and a new feeling. It was a tightening across her chest, her nipples, already sensitive as they grew, were hard and tight in the garment, forcing a moan of pleasure from her.

"My... my prince..."

She managed to gasp out as his lips found her neck, one hand momentarily leaving her arms to move her long hair out of the way, then tilting her head to the side. his mouth was hot where it kissed her, and his hand slipped down her neck, across her collarbone and down her front, brushing across her sensitive nipples. She flinched, her breath catching in her throat and her eyes rolling back at the wave of pure pleasure that rolled over her. Her hands moved, back, to rest on his thighs as his hand, moving down her front, opened her buttons, one by one.

As his hand released them, the buttons, already straining from her posture and her most recent growth spurt, spread to reveal the clean, dark skin beneath the kidskin garment. His hand slipped within, cupping and caressing her right breast, his thumb circling her hard, dark nipple once as he moved his other hand up her arm, and slipped the garment free, baring her shoulder. Where his mouth quickly moved and kissed, she gasped again at this, one hand going over his hand on her breast. Holding him to her tightly, arching her back to press against his fondling hand more and pressing her round, slender backside against him, feeling something pressing against the cleft of her rear.

As his hands moved to slip the garment from her other shoulder, and then down, and off of her arms, she took her breath in great, deep gulps, and bit on her lower lip. His hands both coming to her breasts and holding them, caressing her in ways she did not know. And somewhere in this moment of seduction, in this perfect ruse of lust and desire, something in him changed. Effected by her innocence and her warmth, he changed. He turned her to face him and kissed her on the lips, covering her mouth with his and pulling her against him. Her mouth was warm, inviting, tasting of cinnamon and chamomile, and befitting how lovely she was.

And her flesh under his hands, warm and soft, cool and firm by turns, her breasts filled his hands, but little more, her nipples, dark and hard, were impossible to ignore as he kissed her, they pressed against his chest. He had lain with women before, foreign dignitaries brought lovely concubines as gifts, slave girls whose whole lives had been given over to pleasure, and how to make love to a man with her eyes, her mouth, and all of her body. But this was different, a seductive song of innocence that had called him to her.

He laid her back on the bed and looked down upon her, her eyes were closed and a single tear leaked from the outside of each as he watched. She was lovely, perfect as he gently slipped the garment off of her and set it aside, leaving her before him in nothing more than her hair and the single ring in her navel. He slipped the robes from his shoulder then, allowing them to fall to the floor as he looked down upon her.

He lay across her on the bed and she welcomed him with her arms, her mouth offered for his kiss, which he gave, again tasting that sweet confection upon her tongue as his mouth opened to her, and hers to he. His hands explored her, from the soft, downy hair of her pubis, to the round swell of her breasts, diminished with her position, but no less lovely, his mouth could resist no longer. He took one between his lips, suckling at it for a moment, the taste, of salt and fruit, was seductive, as were the sounds of her moans, her breath and her gasps as he touched her with his self. The scent of her arousal, mixed with the faint smell of the rose soap that the fresh sheets of the bed had been washed in. The feel of her, firm, yet yielding as he explored her, a touch of sweat across her from nervousness, the slick feel of her juices as his hands first parted, then caressed her thighs, and the warm, inviting place that lie between.

But most seductive of all was the very sight of her. Many were the prices; his father had been one, that sought the gem from afar, where Sithar himself saw the apple outside his door. And he found he could not simply take her, as was his right as prince. All belonged to him, she among the hundreds of other serving girls in the palace. The sight of her there, soft curves, log angles and lovely muscles played under her skin as she shifted on the bed, opening herself to him, offering herself to him, giving herself to him. She was so lovely and perfect, so pure and dark, from her nipples, barely bigger around than the tip of his finger, to her slender legs and fine toes, her strong arms and delicate fingers. And all in the center, the valley of her navel, just above the downy fluff of her pubis. She was there, open to him, his for the taking. And he found that while he was able, his flesh had risen to the task and his manhood throbbed with desire for her, he could not.

He wrapped her in his arms, kissing the tears of fear and nervousness from her eyes and sighed. Then he stood and offered her a hand up. As she stood, he smiled. As I have mentioned, he knew that his smile could have an effect on women, the young ones especially, and this was one time he did not use that smile. And she thought it was the most lovely smile she had ever seen. Her heart ached at the sight of this smile. Then he spoke, and his words called to her in a way that she had never known.

"Ki'a, daughter of Shallah, light of the eyes of Kierien, I wish to court you, as a man should a woman, before he may lie with her. Will you carry this message to your father, that he might meet with me, and discuss dowry and titles?" He knew that her father would stripe her backside if he sent her with nothing more than a light head from seduction and a few words, so he traced a moment over a tattoo on his right arm, then clasped his right hand with hers. The slight sorcery in the ink carried it over to her arm, adjusting it slightly to her build. If she said no, that she did not wish to be courted, as was the right of any woman, the tattoo would fade and be lost forever. It was a heart tattoo, given normally from prince to bride on the eve of their wedding. But there was no disputing the truth or validity of it. And she nodded, a shocked look upon her face.

Chapter 2

Sithar expected to wait anxiously over the next ten days. It was a typical reaction in a marriage proposal for a family to mourn for five days over the loss of one child. Then celebrate for five days at the prospect of a new marriage, and the coming of age from a child to an adult for the expectant bride or groom. Yet, he was not entirely surprised when Kierien the solder, a cavalry captain in Sithars own guard, came into the palace, escorted by the seneschal, dragging Ki'a by her arm. Her face was red where he had slapped her, and her sleeve was torn away where he had inspected the tattoo.

The seneschal saw them to the princes private rooms and bowed out, and Kierien stopped abruptly. He was a tall man, for his race, and powerfully built from years of drills and ceremonies in heavy armor. He bore the tattoo of a Hussar captain upon his cheek, and as an ultimate badge of trust, he was allowed to bear the kukri that the elder prince had gifted him with upon his promotion to captain. It was a deadly weapon in the hands of a novice. An expert, such as Kierien, could kill a man at twenty paces with this weapon. And none were allowed weapons in the presence of the princes. None. Even emissaries from far away countries had to sacrifice their decorative weapons when they stayed in the palace. Kierien was highly decorated, given his status of captain, and his house within the palace. But still, he was just a captain.

"My prince." He said out loud, dropping to one knee, planting his right fist on the floor at the foot of the carpet the prince stood upon, and dragging Ki'a down as well. She was still flushed and nervous from their encounter that morning, and looked up at Sithar once, pleading with her eyes, before joining her father upon the ground in a slump, barely able to stand for the whipping he had given her.

"My daughter came to me this day with lies. She left from her work and came to her mother and I, bearing a false Heart tattoo and a love bite on her neck and professing that the crown prince, your lordship himself, wished to court her. I whipped her for the crime, and have brought her to you for punishment, as is proper."

He did not rise, nor look up. Once he had finished what he had to say, he fell silent, and Ki'a, fearing the worst, sobbed there on the floor. But what Sithar said forced his loyal captain to breach etiquette and look up at his prince, shock on his face.

"Indeed she did, Captain. Please, rise, so we may discuss the courtship. And Ki'a, my love, rise, you never need kneel before me again. Indeed, once we are wed, it is I who shall kneel before you." Kierien sat back on his heels in shock, watching as Sithar aided Ki'a to her feet and steered her towards a soft divan, where he saw her carefully seated, then rang a bell for a healer. "Please, Captain, we are to be family soon, you and yours will become of the blood in twelve days time, if we can settle on a marriage between myself and Ki'a. Rise." Kierien rose to his feet and the prince gestured for him to join him at a table, seated in a chair as equals, allowing him to step onto the carpet as if he were one of noble blood.

Kierien rose, and quickly removed his riding boots, placing them in the teak box set aside for just that reason, and joined his prince at the table. As they spoke, a healer came in, a slight woman with an eastern complexion, and a tilt to her eyes that spoke of intelligence and kindness, and saw Ki'a out and to an adjoining room. It was not proper for a father to see his daughter out of her clothes, or for a husband before she was his wife. She helped Ki'a strip and then had her lie upon a padded table, where she dressed the red, slightly bleeding lash marks on her backside. They had been made with her fathers horse crop, and they had stung like lines of fire.

Once she was done there, the woman helped her to dress in a clean garment, and to stand, then saw her back in to the divan where she could observe her father and Sithar speaking of a dowry, and a title, for her hand. Her father was just speaking.

"It is the decision of Ki'a if she wishes to marry you. My daughter has a heart and mind of her own, and no amount of dowry could equal her, and no title you could bestow could ever equal her worth to me. We haven't much. A few barrels of water for our house, which were given in pay, as well as a half-dozen horses. That is all. The very home that I keep, the possessions therein are nothing to a one such as you."

Sithar nodded and stroked his chin. For his age, he was no fool. He saw love in Ki'a and knew that they would bear a happy, strong family. And most important, he loved her with all his heart. "My dear captain. A dowry is of the least importance. It is my right, as husband, to waive the right of dowry, and accept only your daughters' hand, and your blessing, as dowry. Your water is yours, earned by right of rank and combat, and your horses are yours, raised, as all horses are in this land, from colts. And as for titles. As the father of my wife, you would be a lord Captain, with a hundred horses more, rooms here in the central palace itself, if not within the princes tower itself, and a mark of the Blood upon yourself and your wife." He gestured to where his own mark of the blood rested, exposed for all to see, on his left breast just over his heart.

"But as you say, it is the decision of Ki'a to wed, or to refuse. And I say this, were she to refuse..." Ki'as' breath caught in her chest at his pause, knowing that the wrath of the blood was all consuming. It was the right of the prince to take her by force, and to have her father exiled, or worse, sent west into the desert, with just her mother, and no water, or even clothes. They would be dead in a day. "If she were to refuse, I swear upon the mark I bear." With this he placed his hand over his heart and the mark of the Blood there. "That it shall be as if nothing were changed. The Heart tattoo shall fade from her arm and I shall return to my rooms in the tower. Naught shall have changed."

He had sworn a blood oath. If he were to break it, the tattoo on his chest would turn to poison and soak into his heart, killing him. Kierien looked from the prince, to his only daughter, his only child. It was for her to decide.

* * * * *

The next five days were spent in mourning for Ki'as' family. And the five after that in celebration. She was to wed the prince on the tide of autumn, the longest day of the year and the shortest night. The Elder prince, the Sithars' father, had decreed that a week of feasting would mark the occasion, one month to the day from his sons sixteenth birthday, and that all in the city would cease work for that single day. For Sithar, it was indeed ten long days of anticipation. A delegation arrived from the Southland, darker of skin and eye than those of the valley, they were considered barbarians by many, but they brought gifts for the couple to wed. Ten concubines for the prince, and ten handmaidens for the bride. All were politely refused, as was the custom in the Southlands. The ten concubines were the daughters of the King of the Southlands, and the handmaidens were his nieces. All were of his blood. Not would have changed had they been accepted, but honor would have been lost on both sides.

For that ten days, the princes tower was off limits to all save the servants that decorated it. And the prince, Sithar, would spend the last two days in fasting and meditation, clearing his mind and his body for the bride that awaited him at the top of the long climb up the great Princes tower. It would be an hour to walk them all, one hundred forty four thousand steps, one, it was said, for each day of the reign of the first prince in the great palace. As that was nearly four hundred years, it was doubtful to all that it was the truth. But it was tradition for the groom to walk the stairs, and not take the lift, as the bride would. And the day arrived faster than Sithar had expected. Nervous, his hunger gnawed at his inside as he waited, naked, for the judgment of the fathers to come upon him.

It was the duty of his father to try and make him doubt his love for Ki'a, and the duty of her father to beg from him the truth. From there, he would pass the ten temptations, naked and alone, and if he succeeded tat, then he would be allowed to ascend the steps of the tower, all one hundred forty four thousand, and join his bride, two witnesses, and three priests, at the top of the tower. Both Sithar and Ki'a would be naked, and there the ceremony would copy the mark of his house, the sunburst on his forehead, and the mark of the blood, the tattoo over his heart, to her. It would also create the wedding tattoos that would adorn their hips. He could not slow or stop in his ascent of the tower, or he would have to start over in ten days time, when he had been properly cleansed and had a chance to fast again.

Then the time was upon him. The north door to his room opened and in came his father. Nearly as tall as Kierien, the Elder prince strode up to Sithar and slapped him, knocking him from his feet and standing over him.

"How dare you soil the name and dignity of our house by wedding a common girl! The name of Kirashe has been handed down from father to son since time immemorial. I demand that you cease this at once and send that slip of a girl and her family west, into the Mohaine, and end this foolishness at once." His father, Anshar Kirashe, knew full well that even if he ended the marriage that he could no more send them into the desert than he could go himself. The tattoo would poison him and kill him within the first hour. But it was part of the ritual.

Sithar pushed himself to his feet and tried to force past his father to the door left open at his back. His father took him by his arms and cast him down. "Renounce! I demand it as your father and the warden of this lad, the elder prince and the protector of this people, renounce or I will stip the name of Kirashe from you myslef and cast you into the desert, with no water and no clothes, to die before the sun crests the noon."

Sithar did not climb to his ffeet, he jumped to them. "I will not. Stike me down if you must, take from e all my water, all my titles and land, all my horses and clothes. But I will marry her. If I have to go over you to do it, I will marry Ki'a." There was such fierce determination in his face and his stance that his father embraced him.

"Go then, and marry her with my blessing the house of Kirashe grows stronger this day, may our enemies beware." He turned then and left by the north door, closing it behind him and locking it. Sithar turned and faced the south, even as it opened. There stood Kierien, in full battle regalia. The silver line of a Lord Captain now graced his face, he commended a battalion of men and had a hundred horses and hundred barrels of water in his name, and not even the elder prince could strip them away without the support of the Consulate.

"Do you love her, truly?" He was fearsome in his riding leathers. A powerful man of nearly six feet and more than a hundred stone. Powerful and imposing, as a good soldier was in those days. "Is what you feel for my daughter the truth? Or do you merely desire her flesh? Tell me, or I shall see your guts this day." And while Sithar knew it was all part of the ritual, seeing an experienced man in armor. Bearing the ten ornamental blades of his station, and knowing he was not only experienced with them, but also possibly acting to protect his young, innocent, lovely daughter. It was another thing entirely to see as he bared the two swords of war across his back, holding them to each side, as he would atop his horse and in combat. Knowing this man, despite his station as a servant to the Tower and the princes that ruled from it, could and would cut him to bits in an instant if he was given the proper provocation.

Sithar knelt, baring his chest and his throat to Kierien. "If you do not believe me true, then let your blade taste my flesh, and naught shall befall you. All that you have gained you shall keep, and all you have kept shall be yours. And your daughter shall be free of me and you may give her all that was mine." His arms out to the sides, he looked Kierien in the eyes, unflinching and brave, his chest and throat a waiting sheath for several feet of expertly crafted steel.

Kierien sheathed the blades with an expert snap of his arms and turned, striding from the room and closing the door behind him, locking it as he went. All that remained now was the east door, beyond it, the stairs up the tower. But first. The ten Temptations.

Chapter 3

As Sithar was undergoing his trials and tests with the fathers, Ki'a had to undergo her own with their mothers. She waited in a room for her mother to enter. Unlike with Sithar, her tests were not known to her before hand. She did not even understand yet that she was to be tested. Some might say that this was cruel. But as a Prince, Sithar had little to gain from Ki'a. If he wanted a bedmate, then there were easier ways to get them. They were gifted to him regularly. But Ki'a. She was to gain an empire. All that lay within sight of the great Princes tower. She was clad only in the kidskin garment she wore when working, her mother was to bring a dress for her. There was not another scrap of cloth in all the room, not a curtain, or bedspread, or even a carpet. Just she and the chair she sat in, and a single full length mirror at the end of the room, which covered the window.

The door opened and she sprang to her feet, heart in her chest, as her mother entered. She carried nothing and hurried over to Ki'a quickly and started helping her with the buttons and laces of her garment. "Quickly dear, we must get you out of this, the gown is soon to arrive. Quickly, quickly." She was nervous, but she complied quickly, stripping the garment off and handing it to her mother, who left the room by the door she had entered. There was nothing else. Kia sat nervously in the chair, chill in the high tower room three flights below the chamber where the wedding was to take place. She crossed her arms over her chest and shivered slightly.

Why was there nothing to wrap herself in? Why were there no gowns or garments to clothe her naked flesh? And where had her mother gone with her clothes? All these questions burned in her mind as she waited. An hour, then two. Finally she went to the door and peeked out, hoping to see her mother. Far, far belw her Sithar was just completing his tests of the fathers, and Ki'a was just beginning her tests of the mothers. A hand pushed her from the room and the door closed so quickly is smacked against her backside. She was out in the hall and before she could even gasp, there was the sound of the door locking behind her.

She felt a chill up and down her spine. She knew, somehow, in her heart, that her mother had done this, pushed her out in not but her skin and hair, wearing only the ring in her navel from her coming of age, and the tattoo on her arm from her princes proposal. She felt hot tears slip up and down her cheeks as she looked. She was in a hall, the octagonal tower was all around her. And she was high up near the cloud room of the tower, where she was to wed Sither in a short time. And she had been cast out into the hallway in her skin. She had a choice, in one direction lay the stairs that led down, out of the tower and to safety. And up. There the families gathered. Twenty witnesses to her nakedness. She shivered as she wept, but she turned her feet to the stairs leading up.

She climbed slowly, and saw that there were soldiers lining the halls and stairs above her. With a gasp, she ducked back around the corner. She did not want to be alone with these men, not now, while she was bare to them. They were the high guard, the most elite of all the soldiers in the empire. Her own fathers' father had been one, when he was a youth. And he had died in that service, protecting the current Elder prince from an assassin. But alone, and in the hall above reproach with fifty armed men? She would be a sheep among wolves.

She shivered there for a bit, but then made up her mind. She would go forward, and f they tried to touch her, she would scream and fight, bite and claw, scratch and kick and raise such a ruckus that all in the city would take notice. She would not give into them easily. Or quietly. Arms across her breasts, one hand down to hide her sex, she strode through the hall more like a timid mouse than a princess-to-be. And she could feel the eyes upon her, assessing, looking, seeing. And it galled her that they would stare so openly at she who was to be their princess. Stopping, she closed her eyes and let her arms fall to her sides.

A shrill whistle of appreciation cut the near-perfect silence. Her eyes snapped open, and she turned with a scowl in the general direction the sound had come from. "Which of you did that? Who would dare to so openly ogle she who is to be your princess? Speak, or I will see you all stripped of rank and sent to slop the pigs." There was a real fury in her voice, and to the hidden observers, as well as the obvious ones, she was every inch a princess. One could practically see the mark of the blood upon her already. There was a tense moment of silence, and she was just about to speak wen one of the guards stepped forward.

"It was I, Milady. My blade and my life are yours, as is my apology." He offered to her his kukri and his arm, but she placed her hand upon it and shook her head.

"You have sincerely apologized, and that is enough." She had passed the first test without even knowing she was taking it. The guards snapped from their comfortable slouch to a position of attention as she continued up the stairs. She could tell they were no longer assessing her as they had been before. She had become their princess and would be protected like she was their own daughter. She continued up the stairs and came to the door of the cloud room. There was the Elder Princess, Amaterasu Kirashe. She was not a tall woman, but that didn't stop her from being any less imposing. She stood a full five steps higher than Ki'a and looked down her regal nose at the girl as if she were a piece of filth.

On the steps between them was a carpet. One of the royal, hand woven rugs that only those of the Blood were allowed to tread upon without proper invitation. Ki'a stopped and looked up at the Elder Princess. There was a smirk on the womans face and arrogance in her eyes. She was the most powerful woman in all the empire, and this was her place. The cloud room was hers, she alone held the key to it and she alone could turn that key and unlock it. "So, you are the chippie who thinks she will marry my son? Child, you are not worthy of that title, or the tattoo which you seem to have stolen from my house. The very tattoo that my husband gave to me, and I gave to my son. Howdare you presume to the throne?"

Ki'a said nothing, she morely stood there, looking up and past the Elder princess at the silver bound oaken door that barred the way to the Cloud room. She would wait. There was nothing to be done about this. She would merely wait.

Then Amaterasu spoke again. "Turn and go back, girl, or I will give you to my guard this day. You may have impressed them with your false bravado. But I am not so easily swayed. You do not love my son, you merely wish to ascend the throne. Oh, I know, girl. That is the way of common whores like you. But I have a secret for you. You will never... NEVER marry my son, never take all that is his away from him." It was common knowledge that when a man married, all that was his became the property of his wife. This went from beggars to princes.

And Ki'a knew this, it was one of the reasons she was so nervous. She didn't want all the water and riches that Sithar had to offer. She just wanted him. And she had a right as well. A right to decline all that was to be hers. It would make her little more than a concubine in the eyes of the people, but she didn't care. She looked down, gathering her strength, then back up at the Elder Princess.

"Then I rescind all my title by right. I abdicate my claim on all that would become mine should I marry your son, and will take any relationship that he chooses to maintain. If he chooses to make me his bed slave, I will wear his collar and serve him in what ever fashion he desires." she waited then, still afraid to step on the carpet, to confront the more regal Elder Princess. And Amaterasu spoke again.

"Look at you! Coming to this place, clad only in the skin that the creator gave you, without even the decency to cover yourself with your hands. A shame. A slip of a girl, likely already bedded by half the soldiers in the garrison, and likely bearing a bastard child she wants to push off on my son, aspiring to the throne. No, little whore, I think not."

This was too much for Ki'a to bear. She steeled her resolve and stepped up onto the carpet, first one step at a time, placing one foot at a time up, taking her time, gathering herself, but then she was taking them quickly, till she was face to face with the shorter, slighter elder princess. She seized the woman by the arm and forced it down to her thighs. "If you have a doubt of my purity, then see for yourself. But I will not have you insulting my reason or my integrity." She did not even flinch when the Elder princess took her up on the offer, running a single finger unflinchingly across her cleft to test her hymen. Her heart practically burst when the woman embraced her.

"I am gaining a daughter this day! Praise be to the creator! Praise be to the light, praise be to the clouds!" Then she turned, her right arm still around Ki'a and unlocked the great door to the cloud room with the silver key she bore. They entered and left the white stair behind, to await the coming of the prince.

Chapter 4

The ten temptations. He had heard and read of them often, but had never given them more than a passing thought. He knew that they would test him to the very core of his being. He had gone without food, drink, or clothes for two days. As he walked up the east stair, he came to the first. A fountain stood in s small courtyard between him and the way onward. There his father sat, drinking from a cup with the cool, clear water. He beckoned his soon over and held the golden chalice out to him, filled as full as it could be with water so cold that it chilled the breath to steam.

"Come, my son, sit and drink with me. It is a hot day, even for this city, and I know you thirst." Sither shook his head, circling past his father to continue on towards the palace. The first was perhaps his hardest. For his thirst was like a wild thing within him. But he could not stop. Not here.

Through the door was the banquet hall, and there he could smell the second temptation before he could see it, a grand feast. Meat and wine, tubers and fruit, a feast fit for a wedding, one would say. And it was this thought that drove him past it, around it, onward. He had to reach Ki'a and wed, then all the food and drink in the palace were his for his pleasure.

The third was next, and it was easy enough to spot. All of his clothes had been brought down from his room, laid out for him to see. In his mind, the temptations were getting easier. Nothing could be more tempting to him than the water his father offered. His thirst and hunger gnawed, and he didn't spare the third temptation a passing glance as he continued on. He was tempted with riches, horses, a bath, and a grand hunt next. They came, and they went as he progressed, thinking these had been placed wrong, what could be more tempting still than the water his father had offered him. Then he knew. He opened the next door and a grand harem was laid out. Nubile, naked women in little more than piercings and veils called to him. And his body, bare for them to see, reacted. They were lovely, drinking water and wine, honey mead and nectar. And he knew, if he married Ki'a, never again would he be allowed to partake of these pleasures. They would be lost to him evermore.

A husband's first duty was to his bride. And not to his slaves. And these women were trained from youth to seduce, and they were good at what they did. They shed what little covered their nakedness and came to him, on hands and knees, with what was desirable to a man exposed for him to see, to touch. A hand caressed his erect manhood and he felt himself giving in. He hadn't flinched when he passed the fountain, though his thoughts of it had come to him often, driving him mad with thirst and need. But here. Here he could satisfy his deepest carnal desires. Here he could drink from the breast of a pleasure girl if he so chose, and none would deny him that it was his right.

Then he saw her... the others were exotic, pale of hair and skin, or bronzed as no local girl could ever be. Or darker of skin, with chocolate dark skin and hair, with big, dark eyes and feral, feminine curves that tempted men into war, and seduced them into peace. But this girl. She was from the valley. Her skin and hair were dark, and her eyes were a piercing blue. He thought she was Ki'a for a moment. Then realized what he was thinking. He had nearly thrown away what he felt for Ki'a for a few pleasurable hours in this harem flesh-pile. He pushed them all away angrily and continued on. He was going to marry this day.

But they did not let him go that easily. Hands clutched at him, mouths sought him out, kissing, tasting, suckling. But he pushed them all away. And he made the door. Once through, he slammed it and leaned against it, eyes closed, gaining his composure for a moment. When he opened his eyes he saw where he was. His mothers sitting room. And he was naked and aroused from his trek through the harem.

"Mother!." Hishands went to cover him and she chckled, looking up at him over the lip of her book.

"why so jumpy, my son? What did you expect? Easy tests? There will be none more tiring than these by far when you are Elder prince. What is the test of a room full of pleasure girls compared with sending men off to war. But set this aside, for one year, wait, court her more and relax. You can enjoy all the time in that room that you like and you will have time to feel out the relationship with this, Ki'a was it?" she asked, pronouncing it Keeya rather than Kaya, which was proper. "She'll still be there in a years time. And you can enjoy all the things a young man in your..." She looked down at his hands still covering his manhood. "state... should be enjoying." He felt a hot flush as he realized what she was hinting at. Angry now, he stormed out of the room, hands at his sides, heading for the door that would take him up the tower and to the cloud room at the top, where he could wed Ki'a and be happy with her, the damn temptations past.

As he started climbing, he tried to remember. Had he been through all ten? He couldn't remember. He kept going and going, and to pass time, he counted steps. His legs were getting tired and his breathing became hot and labored. A stitch grew in his side and he wanted to slow, or stop. Anything to rest. His thirst came back in spades and he found himself sucking on his finger to produce some moisture to sate his thirst, to take the edge off, at least. It helped some.

About halfway up, a sound that he knew from years of hearing it came to his ears. It was the lift. Oh what he'd give for a ride in the lift! His legs were like lead and he had lost count twenty minutes ago, somewhere in the ten thousands. As he rounded a corner, he came to see his parents, and Ki'as' parents waiting at the door to the lift.

"Son! You have passed the ten temptations, come, ride the lift to the top, there is no need to walk all the way. You made it almost half that's plenty. So come, lets get you up to the top, there's a wedding!" His mother and Ki'as' parents were there as well, smiling and nodding, his mother in the high collared dark gray cloak that was her sign of station. He almost stopped. But then realization struck. He was in the tenth temptation right now. If he stopped, he would have to start the whole thing over.

So he kept on. It took him another hour to reach the top of the tower, and there they all were, His parents and hers. But there was no sign of Ki'a. He knew she would be within, if she had passed her own trials. Which she had to have, he would have been told if she hadn't. Wouldn't he? It didn't matter at this point. He would marry her if he had to steal her away to a chapel in the city and elope by night. But then his father opened the door, and within he saw Ki'a, kneeling on a pallet by the altar, waiting patiently for him. She was as bare as that day in the room where he had proposed to her. Different only by the tattoo on her arm. He smiled. And he went in.

Chapter 5

Sithar passed through the great oaken and silver bound door and into the hall that ran all the way around the Cloud Room, at the very top of the great princes' tower. There was a single smaller room to each point of the compass from the central room where the sacred ceremony would take place, and where they would spend the first week as husband and wife, sequestered in the great tower. To the north was the dining room. There they would take all their meals. To the south, the great bath. Ancient magics brought water from nearly a mile beneath the surface all the way up the tower to this room, where it was heated and cleaned and kept ready for them to bathe. To the east was the great balcony, a small room there led to the walkway that was all the way around the great tower. In times of war, archers and snipers would be placed here, to rain death down upon the attackers from high above reproach. And to the west, was the locked door. No prince or princess had opened that door in memory. And none knew what lay beyond it. Some say it is the tomb of the first prince. But that is a rumor.

He passed through the inner door and it was closed behind him, and would be locked once the five in the room with he and Ki'a were gone, and would remain locked for an entire month, unlocked before then only in a time of great war. And he looked at Ki'a, looking back at him, kneeling there upon the floor in nothing but her skin, bearing the tattoo he had given her, and nothing else. Smiling, he took her hand. It was a traditional Royal wedding ceremony. There were two witnesses, both above reproach, not related to the bride or the groom in any way, and three priests.

As Sithar knelt beside Ki'a, they began the chant. The first priest intoned the proper rituals, calling down the divine power, creating a spiritual bond between prince and his princess. The second intoned the proper ceremony, the words and rites that would bind them together on a less visceral level. And the third brought forth the proper magic that would bind them irrevocably. When they were ready to conceive a child, they would. And as the ceremony drew to a close, new tattoos appeared on Ki'a, the starburst in the center of her forehead, denoting the Kirashe family, royalty and a surname all in one mark. The mark of the Blood over her heart, and on them both, the mark of marriage, on their left side, just over the hip, a second starburst that would denote them as wed, in the house of Kirashe and the great princes tower.

When it was finished, the priests and witnesses filed out and both of them could hear the seven locks, one for ewach day of the week, turning in the great door. In moments they would be left alone within the tower. And there remain for the next month. But they did not wait that long to consummate their marriage. Neither was old enough to believe they were ready for children. At least, not yet. This time was about a release, of what lay between them. Of what they had waited all this time for, what all the trials that had led up to this moment were about.

He came to her, and she welcomed him, with open arms and warm embrace. And they, now husband and wife, lay back among the cushions and sheets, the silks and linens, and they loved. It was a sweet love, her first, though not his. But then, she knew it was not, even though he had not said so. But men were not expected to wait for marriage before taking a woman to their bed. That was what concubines were for, after all. And the concubines in the palace, exotic and varied, were known throughout the city as perhaps the loveliest women in all the land.

But she did not expect him to have waited. And as he took her, made her his in a way no spell, no magic, could ever come close to matching, she cried out, in pleasure and in completeness. And they were one.

* * * * *

when it was done, she lay in his arms looking up through the glass ceiling of the tower. The sky was already night, and they had loved half the day away. But she was whole now. Content and complete in his arms. A warmth she had never known was there, in her belly, and she kissed his shoulder as he smiled at her. Then he rose, and held out his hand to her. Smiling and curious, she took it and he lifted her to her feet, then scooped her up in his arms, strong and youthful. He carried her to the south room of the tower and there she saw the great baths. There were large windows all around the three walls of this room that were not bordered on the Great Princes Tower itself, and they revealed to them the entire city laid out beneath them, as well as the great valley and the Southlands beyond that. The sky was an explosion of stars, the three moons rising in the sky and shedding a silvery light on all that lay below, and the great band of stars wheeled across the sky, with deep darkness to either side, devoid of even a single star. It was a lovely night and a more lovely view.

And then there was the tub. It was more of a pool, really. Large enough for a dozen people, it was a wide basin of stone that brimmed with steaming hot water, and the bottom was smooth and rounded, but with enough of a surface to prevent slipping. Somehow the windows were not fogged up from the steam, and as he carried her down into it, she moaned in pleasure and relaxation. The sweat and fluids of the day were washed from her carefully by his loving hands and she relaxed back against him in the water, allowing his hands and the warm liquid to soothe the aches and soreness from her. It was pure bliss. This was more water than she had ever seen in once place before.

Yes, there was water to be had in the valley, but it was hoarded by farmers and barons, and used in the city and palace as currency. What few creeks and brooks were available in the land were carefully watched and jealously guarded. But this, it was bathing in riches. And she enjoyed every second of it. She saw that on the wall that the door occupied, against the side of the Great Tower, were racks and shelves laden with bottles and cakes of soap and fragrant oils. Literally hundreds of them. He rose from the pool and moved over to select a few from the wall, then returned to her, and added a little oil to the water. It filled the room with the aroma of roses. He set that bottle aside and descended again into the water with her.

* * * * *

When they had bathed, then loved again, then bathed more, he held a soft cotton towel for her, and dried her with his own hands, then she returned the gesture. There were no clothes to be had here, they would only be allowed those at the end of their month together. But he led her into the north room, where a great wedding feast was laid out for them. Foods from all of the four lands were available, as well as drinks and other delicacies. They ate at length and enjoyed the view of the Northlands from the windows the looked out into the cold mountain country. It was a magnificent vies, as the moons had passed over the tower by then and were lighting the area beautifully.

When they had dined, they went to the balcony on the east side of the tower and looked out over their future Princedom. One day they would rule all they saw from here all the way to the horizon, together. The great lush valley was laid out before them, they could see the eastern baronies and the farmsteads that were laid out across the valley like a scattering of gemstones. The waves of wheat and corn looking like shimmering amber and emerald in the light from the sky. And the houses of the city, which they could see all of beneath them, was like an ocean of gemstones, thousands of colors and shapes, even from this high up in he sky, and even at this hour, half past the mid of the night.

They looked out over their future land then walked around the balcony, and under the sealed room of the west'ring door. There were no windows here, no seeing what lay inside. Though many princes had tried and failed over the centuries. But below them was what drew the eyes of the young lovers. It was the mohaine. A great, black, lifeless expanse that seemed, to their eyes, to dwarf the whole of the rest of the world put together. Far off in the distance burned a single, unwavering light. For centuries philosophers and sages had pondered the presence of that light. Was it a star? Was it a city? Was it a great gemstone? None knew for sure, and hundreds had disappeared into the desert seeking it. None had ever returned.

They returned then into the tower to sleep, to rest and spend the next month together in isolation, eating the most wonderful foods and bathing whent hey chose to, and loving one another, again and again in the tower, until the seven locks turned and they were greeted by their family, dressed, and presented to the city.