Zar journeys north from Denkhar to the Black Queen's castle.
*
Zar bid farewell to the White Queen of Lliria on the shore of Denkhar, and watched for a while as the ship set sail, but time was not a luxury she could afford. Already autumn was giving way to winter, and the road north would only get colder. Still, Zar was glad of the days she had spent with the warrior women, in part for the chance to train and learn new fighting skills, but also for the chance to recover from her ordeal in the underworld.
That and gradually coming to terms with her body's craving for pleasures that her spirit sought to deny. She had been raised by the Sisterhood to believe in the sanctity of the flesh, and even though she had not been strictly obedient to this tenet, she had retained her virginity into adulthood. Indeed, the most sacred part of herself had never been touched by another, and the moonsilver chastity belt that she had worn since leaving the Convent had protected it well.
But if in that one respect she was a maid and pure, in others she had proved herself a whore and corrupt. The Goddess Veshla had even branded her as such.
Ultimately, for her quest, it mattered not. "Only a warrior pure and chaste," the old seer had said, and Sister Palwe had perked up immediately.
The Sisterhood was not wealthy and its treasures were few, but amongst its dusty collection of artefacts was a simple wooden box embossed with the symbols for purity and chastity. Within was an intimate garment spun from seemingly delicate moonsilver. "Once worn," Sister Palwe had warned, "neither blade nor prayer will remove it." And indeed it had protected Zar's maidenhood very well indeed, just as Veshla's silver breastplate now guarded her chest (from pleasure as much as injury), but whether Zar was a warrior sufficiently pure and chaste to stand against the Black Queen... well, only time would tell.
With one last wave to Llirian queen, Zar turned her back to the sea, and set her aim for the Black Queen's castle.
*
In northern Paraldiar, the Black Queen's men were everywhere, some foraying across the mountains into Denkhar to raid villages and steal livestock. The Denkhari, grown wary of all strangers, viewed Zar with a suspicion that bordered on hostility, forcing her to zig and zag her way north, crossing and re-crossing the mountains while evading patrols both east and west. In this, the Eye of K'Dunhe aided her, for she journeyed mostly at night, and the rocky terrain was vivid even in the dark.
In time the mountains gave way to a vast plain that had been stripped bare of the forest that existed now only as wounded stumps and weeds, threaded with glints of ice, and crossed by a great road that ran with unnatural straightness from the pass at the Paraldian border to the distant city of Benatek and the Black Queen's castle. Zar studied the ruined landscape and watched the road, busy with swift messengers on horseback, and with wagons laden no doubt with loot for the Queen and supplies in both directions.
Her eye was drawn, however, to a lone tree at the base of the pass, still standing tall but stripped of its branches. Pinned to the twisted trunk of that once mighty tree was the figure of a man. Alive or dead, Zar was unsure, but she crept close in the dead of night, watching for the guards that patrolled the border. The road was near too, with many camped there for the night, awaiting the dawn before attempting the pass through the mountains.
Alive, she realised, discerning the aura of the man as she approached. There was something familiar about him too. "Tendaran?"
The Paraldian prince lifted his head wearily. "Have you not tormented me enough?"
Zar laughed. "If breaking your chains was a torment, then perhaps. It seems you enjoy it."
She sensed his confusion, and his slow recognition. "Zar?"
"I could set you free, but you'll probably live longer if I don't."
"I'll take my chances with you."
The chains were steel, and no ordinary weapon could have done more than scratch them, but the Dawn Blade was no ordinary weapon. As before in the witch's house, it cut through the hard metal with ease - but not without a clamour that echoed loud in the night. Twice the ring of steel on steel cried out, waking the distant sleepers and calling the attention of patrolling guards. As Zar severed a third chain, then a fourth, she spied torches converging on her position, although still at a distance. There was time still for the final chain that wrapped securely about the prince's waist.
"Get ready," she warned, a swung a fifth time, and cried out helplessly as an unseen assailant punched her in the chest, sending her tumbling backwards. She sat, momentarily stunned, searching the dark for some hint of her attacker.
"Zar!" Tendaran shouted. "Move! It's the Queen's bow!"
Oehr's Bow, Zar thought to herself. Not that it made a difference. She rolled quickly away, even as a second arrow whispered through the air, narrowly missing her. Their flight was swift, and despite the almost impenetrable dark the Queen's aim was good, but the castle was far away. "Need to keep moving," she muttered, and with a final swing of the Dawn Blade she severed the last chain.
She caught Tendaran as he fell, too weak to stand, let alone run. Fortunately, he was a slender young man trained for courtly matters, not a muscular warrior weighed down with armour. Zar hoisted him over her shoulder and ran, keeping the lone tree between them and the castle.
She found cover just in time, even if it was no more than the shallow gully of a stream bed. The converging guards were too blinded by their own torches, and too deafened by their calling to one another, and perhaps just too unbelieving that the prisoner might be escaping towards them, to notice Zar slip past.
Keeping low to evade the Queen's sharp sight, Zar carried Tendaran as she circled the encampment, and found a resting place far from the searchers. "We will be safe here, I think." She gave him food and water, made sure he was as warm as possible, and stood watch as the searchers fanned out and diminished eventually into the distance.
*
Dawn was still far off when the guards changed shift in the encampment and the wagon drivers stirred, emerging to care for their horses and prepare for the hard climb up the pass - or for the final journey to Benatek and the Black Queen's castle - and perhaps it was their calls to one another that awoke the troubled prince.
Tendaran had slept fitfully, and it had not escaped Zar's notice that his hand drifted repeatedly to his crotch. Several times, while still apparently asleep, he had attempted to pleasure himself, only to be frustrated by his trousers and the blanket she had covered him with. Abruptly awake, he swept away the blanket and thrust his trousers down, and seemed entirely oblivious to Zar watching him as he worked his hard shaft with frantic determination.
