NOVEL NEXT A Simple Hunt
"Stop squirming - you're ruining the braid!"
Ihra bit back a sigh of exasperation as Tsia grabbed her by the chin and forced her to stay still.
"I don't see why this is necessary," she grumbled.
"If the rumors around camp are accurate, Lady Naklāti is just a few months away from becoming the Empress. You can't show up to meet her looking like you just came back from a hunt. Besides, Lord Ardûl said you should play up your elveness."
"I'm not an elf," Ihra protested, but as she looked into the mirror, she wondered once again if that was still true. Gently pointed ears and silver-tipped antlers peaked out of the platinum tresses Tsia had tied back, with delicate features that seemed unnatural on the little girl from Hargish.
There were parts of herself Ihra recognized; she still had her mother's eyes - or at least how a six-year-old remembered them - and when she smiled, there was an echo of her brother's roguish grin, but most of the person in the mirror was a stranger. Her features were finer, her hair lighter, her antlers an unwanted crown upon her head. She didn't feel right calling herself an elf, but she wasn't really a Corsyth any longer either.
Tsia ignored her protests, pulling her head back as she finished tying off the braids. "There, it's done. Now we just need to find you some decent clothes. Did you still have the dress Lord S̆arrābi gave you for his dinner party?"
"I….might have sold it for a new bow."
"What about the tunics King S̆ars̆adû provided?"
The blush on Ihra's cheeks was all the answer Tsia needed.
"Argh, fine. I've probably got something we can make work. Will need to let the seams out a little bit, but-"
The rest of her sentence was drowned out as a horn blared outside their tent, followed by a tap on their tent flap. "I was told this was Lady Ihra's tent?" A lilting voice drifted through the canvas. "Can I come in?"
"Uh…" Ihra glanced around in a panic, before racing to the edge of her cot and dragging yesterday's tunic over her head, tousling Tsia's delicate braids in the process. "Come in!"
As Lady Naklāti entered, flanked by a pair of guards, Ihra was surprised to see she wore a simple hunting tunic, with a light set of quilted armor over it. Amusement flickered in her eyes as she looked at Ihra's elaborately coiffed hair, paired with normal day-to-day wear, but she smoothed it away quickly. "I see I caught you at a bad time. Did you already have plans for the day?"
"Well," Ihra fumbled for a smooth reply, before opting for simple honesty. "Actually, I had intended to invite you to join us for maqta."
The Celestian's eye crinkled with good humor. "How remarkable! And here I came to invite you to go hunting. Let me guess - a certain someone put the idea in your ear."
She shifted uncomfortably, taken aback by how easily the woman had guessed it, and Naklāti laughed.
"Have no fear - Lord Eligon had the same notion. He suggested I get to know your team and make sure you aren't hiding any nefarious motives," she said with a smirk.
"You're awfully open about it," Ihra replied neutrally, unsure what to make of the woman's carefree attitude, but the Celestian just shrugged.
"I looked over your files this morning and, honestly, I think my lord is being a bit paranoid. But if it makes him happy…" she trailed off before continuing. "With the addition of our troops, I'm sure the food supply must be strained. Hard tack and rain are a bad combination for morale, so I thought we'd hunt for some fresh game. You too," she added, finally glancing over at Tsia, who had shrunk into the corner of the tent, hoping not to be noticed. "I already sent a messenger to gather the others, so once you're dressed, we can depart - assuming you're willing, of course."
The command cloaked in a request irked her, but Ihra wasn't petty enough to turn it down; this was their own plan, after all - it had just been preempted by the Emperor. Better than spending the day interrogated by a truthsayer.
"Sounds better than my plans," she replied, forcing a grin on her face. "If you could…" her eyes flicked to the two guards standing beside Naklāti, and the woman caught her meaning.
"Mārīl, Ardūs̆ar, if you could wait outside the tent."
"But, my lady," the guards immediately protested.
"I'll be fine - if they decide to attack me, surely a thin piece of canvas won't be enough to stop you," she waved their concerns off. "Now, go; we'll be out in a few minutes."
As the guards reluctantly departed, Ihra turned her back to the woman and began searching through her bag for proper gear. As she pulled out a fresh tunic, her bow and quiver, vambraces, and light armor, the Celestian turned her attention to Tsia.
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"You know, you look familiar. The reports I read indicated you were the daughter of Lady Aphora, formerly of Gis̆-Izum, but I've never been there. I could swear I've met you before, though."
Ihra glanced up in time to see the bitter smile on Tsia's face.
"Are you trying to needle me, or is your report that incomplete?"
It was possible, nay likely, that the woman was a consummate actress, but nonetheless, Ihra could detect no note of disingenuity in her reply. "I meant no disrespect," she replied with a wrinkled brow. "Is your mother a sensitive topic?"
After a second of searching her eyes, Tsia's shoulders relaxed. "I'm sorry - I assumed you were making a jab about my father. You're right, though, we have met."
"The report didn't mention your father, but judging from your response, I assume that's where we met," the woman mused. "But then-" her eyes lit up with recognition. "In King Kabāni's court, there was a girl…Ku-Kutrah?" she stuttered, before the name came to her. "No, Keturah! You're his daughter," the Celestian realized.
"Bastard daughter," Tsia muttered. "And Keturah was my father's name for me; I abandoned it when he abandoned my mother to please the harpies at court."
Naklāti smiled sympathetically. "It may be hard to believe, but I know a little something about difficult fathers."
"Oh?" Tsia raised an eyebrow, challengingly.
"I'm marrying the Emperor, and my father has done everything in his power to stand in the way and dethrone the man I love. I'm pretty sure the only reason he insisted on riding with us to close the portal is that he was hoping to stop us from sleeping together. He was months too late on that front, though," she smirked.
Ihra listened quietly as the two talked; she was unsure how much of Naklāti's behavior was genuine, and how much was an act designed to put them at ease, but either way it was working. If this was some sort of an interrogation, it was at least a pleasant one.
"Done," she exclaimed as she pulled the last vambrace on and fiddled with the ties. "Do you have a map of hunting spots, or do we need to grab one of the locals?"
"Oh, I thought we could use one of your party members - Erin, is it? He is a scout, yes?" Naklāti replied cheerfully, as she rose from her seat on the cot and walked toward the tent entrance.
Alright, so it's still an interrogation. "Theoretically," Ihra replied reluctantly, "but I'm really not sure what skills he has. He was trained as a scout at first because he couldn't activate his magic, but once he got past that hump, that's been his focus."
"You don't share your skills with your party members?" the woman pressed, falling into step beside her as they trudged down the muddy pit that had once been the main road of the village.
"Not really," Ihra shrugged. "Two of our party members are royals estranged from their family, and another two didn't even come from this world; for the most part, we respect each other's privacy."
"I noticed you left yourself off that list," the Celestian replied. "How did an elf like you become part of the party? Were you a member of Aphora's tribe before her exile?"
Ihra's patience began to thin. "I'm sure your report already told you about my childhood. My parents were members of your own guild, and I landed in an orphanage kept afloat by imperial funds."
"Maybe," Naklāti replied with a guilty smile, "but it's hard not to be curious. I've met thousands of elves, walked the streets of Yammaqom and Onkodos Laos, and I honestly never would've guessed you weren't born one. Let me tell you," she added with a chuckle, "I know a dozen nobles back home who would pay you half their fortune if you could share the secrets of your transformation."
"Oh, it's no big secret," Ihra replied. "You just have to infiltrate Hareī-Miqlat, sneak past some dead gods, redeem a forgotten heritage, and find favor with an elven god."
"You jest," Naklāti replied, "but there would be some willing to try."
"Then don't tell them, not if you value their lives," Ihra replied seriously. "We were lucky to survive Naḫas̆s̆innu, and it was only with divine intervention that we escaped the second time."
"Divine intervention?" A cheerful voice interrupted their discussion, and Ihra looked up with a smile as Jasper and the other men rounded the corner. "You know," he continued with a grin, "I'm not sure what's more concerning: that divine intervention has proven to be more than a theoretical concept, or that I don't know which time you're referring to."
"Naḫas̆s̆innu," she replied shortly, and as always happened when mention of the place arose, his smile dimmed.
"Ugh, that one. Can't we talk about a more cheerful one, like that time Kas̆dael resurrected me after I lost my head, or the time…" he paused, seemingly in search of a positive moment to recall, before shrugging. "Alright, maybe there isn't one," he concluded, before bowing his head respectfully to Naklāti. "But I assume you're mostly interested in our most recent incident of divine intervention."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," the woman demurred. "But there will be plenty of time to discuss them all on our hunt. Shall we gather our mounts?"
It took a few minutes longer to retrieve their mounts from the hastily erected stables outside the camp, and then they pressed on into the wilderness.
Naklāti kept the conversation running the entire time, a seemingly light-hearted discussion that nonetheless always circled back to their previous exploits, but, with the addition of Jasper and S̆ams̆ādur to the party, the focus was no longer on Ihra.
She zoned out the discussion as they rode past the ruined village of Agur-Alamittu. A dark haze seemed to hang over the abandoned buildings, whose inhabitants had been slaughtered to the man by Epis̆dāma, and Keres̆ shifted nervously beneath her.
"It's alright, boy," she murmured, leaning out of her saddle to rub the stag's neck. "It's just some fog."
The stag settled down, catching up to the others with a few quick strides but his body began to tremble again as they passed the old tavern. "Hold up," she called out, reining Keres̆ to a halt as her eyes searched the fog for danger.
"Is something wrong?" Naklāti's guards closed in around her, staring at her with obvious suspicion as she shook her head.
"I don't know…something's making Keres̆ nervous, but it's so hard to see through this bloody fog…"
"Mounts get frightened for many reasons," the woman replied skeptically, but S̆ams̆ādur spoke over her.
"They're to the right of us," he said, pointing behind the tavern, "but I can't get a read on them; they're not human, whatever they are."
"And how do we know you aren't just making things up?" one of the soon-to-be empress's guards demanded. His answer was an inhuman howl from the mist.