Scheherazade and the King Ch. 09

"Perhaps 'wild waves'?" He asked, a smile curving his mouth. "That is what Shahzaman calls you. Or perhaps it is time you get used to the name 'Yanamari'."

"Perhaps..." She whispered. "It just that it means nothing to me. It is the name of someone I do not know."

"You will come to know her again," he said. "I see a princess when I look at you."

Then, without another word, he disappeared through the trapdoor. The door fell closed with a thud and darkness swallowed her once again.

++++++++

Shariyar looked around at the motley crew surrounding him. The sun had not yet breached the morning clouds but the ship was already well on its way to Gades.

He had trouble keeping his eyes from lingering on Jafar and Shahzaman. They were leaned against the deck rail, their shoulders just touching. The two men seemed to be laughing constantly, their banter never loud enough to be heard but their happiness unmistakable.

He stalked across the deck to join them: "You two seem to be having the time of your lives."

Jafar glanced over at the king and rolled his shoulders as he stood up straight: "Well, forgive us for finding pleasure in each other's company."

"We don't know that we will be able to succeed in rescuing Schehera — I mean, Yanamari — let alone return her to her throne. And yet, you two are acting as if you're on your honeymoon."

"Stop bitching, Shariyar," the prince sneered. "You are finally doing something right. Everyone on this ship is united to help you. Jafar has finally relaxed a bit. What are you complaining about?"

"I'm nervous," he said. "I want to know that she is safe."

Jafar threw a glance his way that was harsher than he had intended.

"I know, I know," the king growled. "After all I did to her I have no right to be concerned for her."

Jafar relented and offered him a soft smile: "If I know Cas, he is aboard that ship right now, making sure she is safe."

++++++++

Cas passed the meagre portion of rations through the bars with an apologetic glance: "It's not much but, if it makes you feel better, it's all we received from the galley too."

"You will not hear me complain," Scheherazade said, reaching out for the food gratefully.

"No, I don't think I've heard you complain once," he said, tucking into his own rations. "But I'll do it if you won't. It's absolute shit and it's a wonder Shariyar has a navy left if this is what he's feeding them. Used to be a hell of a lot better when I was a sailor."

"You were a sailor?"

"I have played almost every role that exists within the Persian army."

She saw the way his chest puffed slightly with pride at that statement.

"Did you always want to be a soldier?"

"No but I didn't have much of a choice after my parents passed away," he said matter-of-factly. "My father was a commander in the army so they looked after me. I grew up in the barracks and on the ships. I met Shahzaman when he started his military training and he took me on as part of his personal guard. I consider him a brother. I thought of Shariyar that way too until..."

The soldier paused and his expression grew hard: "That man has a lot to answer for. For what he did to Shahzaman and to you. For what he tried to do to those women."

Scheherazade kept silent, watching closely as a cloud passed over the soldier's countenance. Then he shook his head and brushed the darkness aside with a sweep of one of his broad hands.

"But my story is not the one we need to discuss. I'm not scheduled for a watch so we have time."

"Can you tell me more about where I come from? About my family?" She asked.

"I hope so," he said. "Tell me what you know of Irlazken."

"I know that it is the westernmost kingdom in the known world."

"Exactly right. And, though Irlazken may be a small nation, their seamen are the best in the world and their boats are supposed to be unsinkable."

"The turtle who created the world taught them."

The words came out of her mouth unbidden. She looked at him with a peculiar expression on her face.

"I don't know how I know that."

"I've heard that legend from many an Irlazken," the soldier said with a smile. "You probably heard it from birth."

"Go on," she murmured.

"The royal family has two palaces — one at the highest, most western peak of the island, and a smaller summer palace on the far side of the country, closer to the mainland. You were kidnapped from the summer palace. No one had ever attempted a raid on an Irlazken palace before and, besides, you weren't supposed to be there at all, much less on your own."

"What happened?"

"There was an outbreak of sickness in the castle and you became very ill. They sent you to the summer palace in the hopes that the climate would aid in your recovery. Your family was supposed to join you but, for at least a fortnight, you were the only member of the royal family there."

"So there was less protection?"

"I assume so," he said.

"And you are certain Ekaitz killed the princess and the king?"

"No," he admitted. "But all the intelligence we have gathered points in that direction. Ministers sent by King Mikolas to find you were assassinated and mercenaries were sent to with orders to bring you back alive if they had to, but dead if they could. If he meant to welcome you back into the palace with open arms, I doubt these are the measures he would have taken."

"What was the princess — my sister's — name?" She asked after a moment.

"Stellamaris," he said.

"That's a beautiful name," she whispered. "I wish it meant more to me. But I cannot remember. How terrible is that? I cannot remember my own family."

"I am sorry," he said, knowing his words could do little to help ease her pain.

"Tell me," Cas said suddenly, "when people ask you where you are from, what do you tell them?"

"That I am from the sea," she said with a shrug. "Seems just as likely a place as any."

"That's not by chance. That is something you remember," he said. "That is how Irlazkens always answer when asked that question. They know their past, present and future are intrinsically linked to the sea. They always say that that is where they come from. And that coin in your hair, that is Irlazken too. It is customary for the Irlazkens to wear a coin in their hair, or as a piece of jewellery. It was originally to pay for the funeral in case one happened to drown but now it is more of a general custom. There are some things that never left you, some things that not even a pirate can steal."

She smiled at him and he could see her posture straighten a bit.

"So, what is Shahzaman's plan?"

"Well, when the ship arrives at Gades, there should be a falcon from Shariyar waiting for the captain telling him not to disembark until the King's convoy arrives."

"And then where will we go?"

"Oh, we are going to Irlazken," he said. "We are going to knock that murderer off the throne and restore your birthright."

"With what army to back us?" She asked.

"You have a band of elderly royal ministers, a crew of motley exiles, their scarred leader and his lover, and — hopefully — a mostly sober King of Kings."

"So I'm doomed?" She asked, throwing him a mocking half-smile.

"On the contrary, I don't think you could ask for better odds."

"What is it you said you had been accused of again?"

"Being too optimistic in the face of near-certain death," he grinned. "Shahzaman knows there is nothing I like better than a slim chance of success and a great deal of danger."

"This is a joke to you?"

"No, princess, this is the most serious of circumstances," he said. "I just find that Fate tends to favour the bold and she seems to have a wicked sense of humour."

"You seem to speak nothing but truths," she sighed. "Though I wish you wouldn't call me princess."

"Then tell me what name to call you and I will use none other," he said.

The girl thought for a moment and fingered the coin in her hair.

"I suppose if I am to reclaim a throne I cannot remember, then I had better start getting used to my real name."

"Yanamari it is then."

He tore off a piece of bread and grimaced as he chewed: "I never thought I would miss the taste of snake."

She chuckled and shook her head: "So, how close are we to Gades?"

"Two more nights and we should have sight of land by the following morning."

"What if the falcon isn't there?"

"Then we will need to get off this ship."

"How are we going to do that?"

"Carefully," he said, grinning without realising it.

Yanamari laughed: "You really do live for the thrill of danger, don't you?"

Cas chuckled and, as was his habit when he felt abashed, ran a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck.

"Perhaps but I promise you that I am not a reckless man," he said. "I will do everything I can to make sure you get off this ship in one piece. Do you have any skill with a sword?"

Yanamari shrugged.

Cas set his empty plate down on the step behind them and stood up, pulling his blade from its sheath and holding the hilt towards her.

"Only one way to find out."

Yanamari rose to her feet and grasped the hilt, positioning herself instinctively in an offensive position.

"Seems the answer is 'yes'," he said with a smile. "Now, attack."

"But you are unarmed."

"Just show me what you know."

Yanamari furrowed her brow and then thrust the sword at Car, water splashing around her feet as she drove the blade towards him again and again with slow, measured movements. She backed him further and further into the darkness of the brig until she could hardly see.

"Alright, alright," he said finally, beckoning for the sword. "Your turn to be on the defensive."

Yanamari smiled to herself and handed the blade back to Cas. He nodded at her and she held up an imaginary sword as if to block his weapon. By the time he had forced her back to the stairs, she was beaming.

"I can't believe it!" She said, looking at her hands with wonder. "I remember something!"

"Once trained, I find our muscles do not forget so easily. Swordplay is taught to every Irlazken, archery too. I am sure you are equally skilled with a bow."

"Ha! I doubt that."

"You shouldn't."

"I wish I believed in myself as much as you seem to."

"Soon, my lady, soon."

"Now," he said, holding the hilt out to her. "Again."

++++++++

Shariyar tossed and turned in his bunk. Sleep eluded him yet again. He sighed and sat up, glancing around the empty cabin. He rubbed his eyes and got up, pulling his boots on and staggering out into the moonlight. He nodded at the captain and then sat down heavily, staring up at the night sky.

"Get up."

Shariyar glanced up at the sudden sound of Jafar's voice. He hadn't even noticed his friend's approach.

"What are you doing awake at this hour?"

"I have no idea. I should be asleep in my lover's arms. Instead, I'm out here wondering why you're feeling so sorry for yourself."

"Leave me be."

"Look, there's no use sitting there fighting with yourself," Jafar said with a sigh. He extended a sword to Shariyar. "Get up, take up your weapon."

Shariyar sighed but accepted the sword. He stood up and rolled his shoulders to stretch his muscles..

Jafar took up a defensive position: "What is bothering you?"

"Schehera-- I mean, Yanamari," Shariyar snarled, lunging at his friend.

"Why?" Jafar asked, parrying the blow and setting the king up for another strike.

"For once, I thought I was doing the right thing."

"You can't blame yourself for that," Jafar said, spinning on his heel to dodge his friend's sword. "You were acting on the information you had."

"I told her I loved her."

"You did what?" Jafar cried. This time, their swords met with a spark.

"I told her I loved her! I wanted her to stay with me —" Shariyar grunted as he dodged Jafar's attacking sword.

"So you promised her the world and then threw her to the wolves?"

"I thought she had lied to me!"

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" Jafar hissed. "One second she's the love of your life, the next she's nothing more than another treacherous whore."

"What would you have had me do?" Shariyar growled, his sword arcing behind his head.

"If you truly loved her, you would have trusted her! That's what I did when I woke up to the news that Shahzaman had been exiled as a traitor!"

"How can you expect me to trust any woman? After what has been done to me?" Another shower of sparks as their blades met.

"How can you expect her to trust any man, after all that has been done to her?" Jafar countered angrily, his sword flashing in the moonlight.

Shariyar grunted as he fought off the vizier's powerful attacks.

"So let's say we do get there in time to save her, what exactly are you expecting her to do when she sees you? Fall into your arms?"

"I don't know!"

"What if she never wants to see you again? Have you considered that?"

"I don't want to think about it."

"You have to! Because, if we get there and she refuses you —"

"She was my betrothed - is my betrothed! Don't I have a right to her?" Shariyar asked, his emotions overpowering his instincts so that his sword fell slightly.

Jafar swore under his breath and swung his sword at Shariyar, barely giving the king the chance to react.

"You. Know. Damn. Well. The. Answer. To. That. Question!" Jafar punctuated each word with his sword.

Shariyar stumbled backwards, blocking blow after blow until he finally found his footing and was able to strike back. Jafar ducked beneath Shariyar's gleaming blade and countered the attack.

"But I love her!"

"That doesn't matter!"

With a decisive blow, Jafar knocked the sword from the king's hand. Shariyar sunk to his knees, breathing heavily.

"I would give my kingdom to hold her again... Shouldn't that be enough?" His amber eyes were pleading.

"What would Nasrin have to give for you to forgive her?"

"I'm not her. I've changed."

"What would Nasrin have to give for you to forgive her?" Jafar repeated sternly.

"There is nothing she could give," Shariyar said, slumping backwards. "So it is hopeless."

"I didn't say that. I just don't want you to expect her to fall into your arms if we do find her. You have no power over her anymore."

"I know... but I wish I did. It's selfish, I know... but I wish I could go back in time to when she was all mine."

"What would you do differently?"

"I don't know."

"Do you really love her?"

"Yes. I mean, I think I do —" The king paused. "I never wanted to be in love again. Not after Nasrin. But she made me feel that there was hope for me. That I wasn't too far gone. I loved her when I thought she was just a slave and, now, to find out that she is not just a princess but the princess that was promised to me all those years ago..."

Jafar sighed and sat down by Shariyar's side, letting his legs splay out in front of him as he stared up at the stars.

"She's still the same girl I found washed up on the beach. Just because we know who she is doesn't change any of the things that have happened to her."

"She actually said she might be able to learn to love me. After all I had done for her — and, a few hours later, I sent her to her death."

"You have to channel the guilt you feel into helping her. You cannot fall into despair, not when she needs you most."

Shariyar nodded and threw him a somewhat sheepish glance: "Thank you, Jafar."

"You're welcome," he replied.

"You're a better swordsman than I recall."

"I don't think it's me who has gotten better," Jafar said, climbing to his feet. "Again."

++++++++

For Yanamari, the days between Side and Gades seemed to drag on endlessly. In the silence of the brig, she had nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company between Cas' visits at the start and end of each day. And her thoughts were hardly comforting... She kept thinking about how different things could be if Shariyar had simply trusted her the way he had said he did. And, when she wasn't ruminating over the king's betrayal, she was thinking about Ekaitz and the fate that awaited her if she ever made it to Irlazken. Doubt filled her mind whenever she thought about Irlazken. There was a part of her mind that refused to believe she could actually be royalty. That, indeed, she had done nothing to deserve the hands fate had dealt her.

Finally, she heard a bolt slide and the trapdoor to the brig opened. Cas climbed down the steps, a plate of food in each hand.

Scheherazade pushed the cell door open and sat down on one of the lower steps. The soldier sat down beside her and passed her one of the plates.

"If the wind holds, we should be in Gades by the morning."

She nodded and the pair sat in silence as they ate. They both knew what was at stake if the falcon was not waiting.

"The falcon will be there," Cas said, trying his best to exude more confidence in his statement than he truly felt.

"I hope so," she said with a shiver. "My stomach ties itself in knots whenever I think about Ekaitz."

"He is a piece of work," Cas said grimly.

Yanamari glanced his way: "You've met him?"

"Yes, back when he was just a captain in the Irlazken navy," Cas recalled. "He was always too big for his boots. But a lot of men are like that, especially when they deem themselves destined for great things. Ekaitz was a capable seaman, to my memory, but not good enough to have climbed the ranks so fast on sheer merit. He is ruthlessly ambitious... the kind of man who will let nothing and no one stand in his way."

"That's hardly comforting," Yanamari said drily.

"No, it's not. But it is important to know your enemy."

Yanamari nodded for him to continue.

"After Zigor kidnapped you, the mission of the Irlazken navy became focused on a single mission — to rid the seas of pirates. This lofty goal was in the interest of the Persian empire as well so a number of ships were sent to offer support to the mission. At one point, the ship I was on happened to come across an Irlazken vessel in the middle of battle with a pirate. We immediately joined the attack and I met Ekaitz in the throws of battle. He may not have been an exceptionally skilled fighter but whatever he lacked in grace he made up for in sheer savagery. But that wasn't what bothered me about him... savagery is almost a requirement in battle, after all. It was what he did after the battle was won that bothered me. Our orders were to bring any surviving pirates back to Irlazken for trial but Ekaitz did not care to waste the energy and resources it would require to do so. So he brought all the survivors on deck and told them to fight each other, swearing that the winner would go free. He had all the sailors on deck to watch the spectacle and keep the pirates hemmed in with their swords. The men fought — I will spare you the bloody details — until there was just one man standing."

"Let me guess, Ekaitz did not do as he promised?" She asked grimly.

"No," Cas murmured. "He did not."

"He sounds like a pirate himself," she muttered.

Cas nodded: "The only difference was the flag he flew under."

"And now he is exercising that same brutality over the Irlazken people..."

"From what we have heard, the situation is dire," Cas said. "People slaughtered if they can't pay his taxes, men being drawn and quartered for resisting, and women being burned as witches."

"Witches?"

Cas nodded: "He is powerfully superstitious — he surrounds himself with talismans to protect himself against the spirits of those he has killed — but I do not think that is why is having them killed. Certain women in Irlazken hold great power within their communities as healers, sailmakers and the keepers of legends. It is easy to guess his motivations for seeing them silenced."

"So what would he do with a woman who has been touched by real magic?" She asked, the tattoos on her arms tingling slightly.