burning hatred of the genies drives off rain clouds. Lakes dwindle and dry up, and streams sink underground. Sand creeps into everything.'
Pallaton stroked his easel and showed grainy fingertips.
'So,' he continued, 'habits change. My farmers and herders seek new and arable land. Inevitably, my citizens intrude on land claimed by Zubat. Years ago, in times of plenty, no one argued about our borders. Now Oxonsis and Zubat scuffle for territory. Skirmishes have led to border raids. Soon will come invasion, and finally war. Note, Samira, that war is an extreme arm of politics. So politics should not be ignored by anyone who wears a crown.
'Answer this,' Pallaton asked, his dagger tapping the map. 'What lies inside the territory disputed by Oxonsis and Zubat?'
'Cursrah!' bleated both Tafir and Gheqet. Amenstar watched with worried eyes.
'Exactly. Don't look so surprised, Samira Amenstar; this news was discussed at your party, but you were too bored to listen. Remember that I accused Samir Nagid of climbing into the pockets of Coramshan? He denied it, but it's true. Zubatans are not warriors. They study the arts and arrange parties. When they need fighters they hire foreign mercenaries, but mercenaries are expensive, and the fighting-with my loyal Oxonsins-escalates. Needing money and protection, Zubat formed an alliance with wealthy Coramshan, allies, but not equals. Zubat is now a vassal of Coramshan, and Samir Nagid is a prince with no power. You might want to rethink your impending marriage, Amenstar.'
The prince's grin was mocking, and Star fumed.
'Instead of scuffling with Zubat,' Tafir said, having followed the argument, 'Oxonsis must war against Coramshan, but Coramshan is ten times the size of Oxonsis.'
'Twelve times. One of her regiments equals our entire army,' stated the prince flatly. 'How long will a war between Oxonsis and Coramshan last?'
'Not long,' Amenstar said. She was intrigued. Why hadn't she paid attention to this important news instead of tattletale gossip and frivolous jokes?
'No, not long,' Samir Pallaton said. His smile was gone as he contemplated his city's fate. 'Oxonsis is isolated and alone and may soon be overwhelmed. So we take quick and desperate measures to stay alive.'
'What measures?' asked Star.
'Secret ones, for now.'
With a flick of the hand, Pallaton changed the subject.
'Back to Cursrah's troubles,' he said. 'Your city has always been safe and untouchable for many reasons. For one it's remote, and desert encroaches on the south. For another Cursrah was crafted by Calim's own hands, and though the genie is supposedly a helpless prisoner of the sky, no one knows for sure. Lesser genies still guard its water, palace, and the upper air. Even dragons, which infest Calimshan like sand fleas, fly clear of Cursrah.
'So does Coramsham. Those coldhearted and ignorant bastards are deeply superstitious, so they don't dare anger Great Calim by attacking Cursrah. Coramshan lusts to annex Cursrah, same as they did Zubat. Actually, any child knows Coramshan wants to conquer all of Calimshan, and woe betide our land when the worshipers of evil Bhaelros are our masters.'
Pallaton paused, shaking his head over a bleak future.
'Anyway, as a first test of loyalty, Zubat is ordered to seize Cursrah.'
'What?' barked the three Cursrahns.
'It's true.' Samir Pallaton paced now, back and forth, and said, 'All my spies agree. Samira, your parents can verify the plot. It's one of many schemes the bakkal and samas have fought for years. Coramshan is clever. If Zubat assaults Cursrah, and Great Calim rises up and slays Zubat's army, Coramshan loses nothing. If Zubat conquers Cursrah, why, Coramshan gains another vassal.'
'Zubat wouldn't dare attack Cursrah,' snarled the princess.
'Not yet,' Pallaton conceded, 'but Coramshan demands action. So Zubat has sent in, not an army, but one beardless youth.'
'You mean,' asked Gheqet, 'Samir Nagid?'
A curt nod, and the prince said, 'Now that Samira Amenstar, Cursrah's eldest princess, is in line to become Queen of Cursrah-'
'I am not,' Amenstar interrupted. 'My two elder brothers stand above me in line for the throne.'
Samir Pallaton stopped pacing so abruptly he almost fell.
Facing Star, he asked quietly, 'You-haven't heard?'
'Heard what?' Star felt suddenly cold and didn't want to hear. 'My elder brothers serve as diplomats at the sea-coast-'
'I'm sorry. Your brothers are dead.' The prince tried to be gentle, but the words jarred Star. 'Rilled by Hatori assassins. One was stabbed and one was poisoned, despite the efforts of their bodyguards. You're now the bakkal's eldest child and will inherit the throne should your parents die, and the Hatori plot to kill them daily. When you wed Samir Nagid on the first day of autumn-'
'It won't happen!' Star came out of her chair, and for a moment wanted to strike Pallaton, to hit out blindly at anyone. Tears ran down her face for her lost brothers, whom she'd hardly known. She tried to sting the prince but only sounded selfish and petty. 'I won't marry Nagid, nor anyone else, except by my choice, and you-why should I believe your wild concoctions? You're probably jealous because my parents chose Nagid over you.'
'Perhaps a bit, dear Amenstar.' Pallaton's deep brown eyes flared with sudden warmth and passion-so much so that Star was startled-then the light flickered out and he said, 'I'll find some woman who's not repelled by my hideous visage. My parents' list of potential brides runs off the table. Save your pity for your home.'
'My-Cursrah?'
'I told you Oxonsis must take desperate measures to survive. One reason I sought your hand was so Cursrah and Oxonsis could become allies. Now Cursrah will be Oxonsis's enemy, and I can't allow that.'
'Oh?' In control again, the princess arched an eyebrow and asked, 'What can Oxonsis do?'
Pallaton still fiddled with the dagger and now flipped it in his hand. For a moment, Amenstar feared assassination, but with one swift turn, the prince snapped the dagger at the easel. Its cruel point lodged into the heart of Cursrah.
'Rather than see Cursrah ceded to Zubat and Coramshan, I'll destroy her.'
'Destroy-' Amenstar stared dumbfounded.
'How?' Tafir and Gheqet shot to their feet.
The cadet shook a fist at the prince and said, 'Never! How can you destroy an entire city?'
'You'll see,' Pallaton told him simply, then folded hairy arms across his broad chest. 'In three days' time.'
Three days passed while Amenstar stewed in a stifling canvas tent, her every move watched by unblinking guards. Unable to talk to anyone, she'd felt her emotions churning, but they had gone nowhere. She was angry at Pallaton for imprisoning her, despairing her city could be saved, self-damning for not attending her tutors, sad at her brothers' deaths, and so on, round and round until Star was emotionally exhausted-and emotionally vulnerable.
Star pondered Pallaton and was surprised at how attractive he seemed. As a prince he ruthlessly planned some assault on her homeland, but only because his own homeland was outnumbered and under siege. As a man, Star had to admit he was handsome, charming, intelligent, and considerate. He cared for his troops and his city. He didn't hate his enemies, even spoke well of Zubat and Samir Nagid. Under different circumstances, Pallaton would work as hard to keep peace as make war. Star knew pride had overruled her sense to the point of folly. A sudden thought bloomed and startled her. Pallaton would make an excellent husband, father, and king.
'That's all might-have-been,' Amenstar sighed.
Then, late one afternoon, Pallaton invited her to go riding. Amenstar was almost grateful-until she recalled he planned Cursrah's destruction, absurd though it sounded. Deciding she must learn the worst, Amenstar consented. With her ankles tied to stirrups, she and Tafir and Gheqet were escorted from the tent city by Pallaton's bodyguard of thirty or more.
Riding northeast on a broad, flat path, the party soon reached the Agis. The silver river rippled from east to west, from the mountains toward the sea. The water ran swiftly, hurrying with whorls and eddies, channeled by stone ridges that prevented it from overflowing. Farmers always cursed 'The Dry River' that, rock-bound and never
