The Wind Steppe Princess and The Amalfi Magician (The Princess and The Magician, #1)

By Lawrence Caldwell

Anara, a princess of the Wind Steppe Khanate Iizuhlia is betrothed to Duke Korr, a foreigner of the world below. But before her nightmare can come to fruition, the Duke’s ship is attacked by Amalfi pirates and Anara is taken captive by the powerful Captain Dante Campione. She must find a way to escape, but something inside Anara yearns for her dangerous captor. Certainly becoming the concubine of a pirate is better than the alternative—the avaricious lecher, Duke Korr?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lawrence Caldwell
• Release date: Jan 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005912307

Lawrence Caldwell

Lawrence Caldwell is believed by some to be a wandering samurai, or a vagrant, or possibly a ninja—though perhaps in his infinite mystery, he’s none of these things. Whichever the case, he wanders home as Odysseus did after the great Trojan War in some realm unbeknownst to our world. And—by direct theft of a quote from a certain dwarf named Varric Tethras—he "occasionally writes books."

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The Wind Steppe Princess and the Amalfi Magician

By

Lawrence Caldwell

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © Lawrence Caldwell, 2021

Look for These Other Titles by Lawrence Caldwell

AEVALIN AND THE AGE OF READVENTURE

Aevalin: Klause Schuar, the Grand Bastard

Aevalin: Trials on the Isle of Morr

Aevalin: Knight of Aevalin

Aevalin: Errant Adventurer

Aevalin: Kingdom of the Blue Dragon

THE JINNI AND THE ISEKAI

The Jinni and the Isekai

The Black Cobra of Mar’a Thul

Coil and Strike

The Sultan of Darshuun

Sultan’s Legacy

ANARCHO

Fracture Rating

Hussy

Landfill Lich

Rescue Operation

Dreams of Forever

THE PRINCESS AND THE MAGICIAN

The Wind Steppe Princess and the Amalfi Magician

OTHER TITLES

Wakiagau

Haven

Teisatsusha

Blackwood Company

Littlehand Hakuria

Attack on the Spire Keep

The Reconnoiters

Skydrift

Acheron

There's power in stories, though. That's all history is: the best tales. The ones that last. Might as well be mine.—Varric Tethras

Chapter One—The Court of the Goddess

She had to get away from the feast and that leering duke. He was of the peoples below. He understood nothing of the Wind Steppe. He was here to acquire an item. And this was the fifth time in two years he had come to the Wind Steppe to treat with the Khan in an attempt to buy Anara’s hand in marriage.

She felt nervous every time he came. But now she was beginning to feel that he would never persuade her father to give her hand in marriage to him. But not because he didn’t want to let go of her. No, Anara was the first born—practically useless in light of having six other siblings.

Bored and annoyed, the first born daughter of the Iizuhlian Khanate had left the banquette and made her way through the skies to the Thithian temple dedicated to the goddess Lolita. They must have been a very sexual as a race indeed, the Wind Steppe Princess thought. To have dedicated so many statues to the erotic arts was proof of that. Of course, not everything about ancient Thithia was of this nature.

She circled the ruins of this particular temple, her pegasus flapping her wings in powerful gusts. The cool night air was a blessing in her hair.

The ruins were still largely intact even after thousands of years. The Thithians were an ancient, long-dead marvel to her. Most of their knowledge had been lost in the Shattering. Experimenting with magic in a never-ending quest for progression for progression’s sake had lead them to their own eventual destruction. The once glorious Thithia suddenly came to an end in a magically enhanced storm that ended in a world-shattering earthquake. The lands were broken and raised into the skies. These physical remnants of the Thithian Empire were now called the Wind Steppe by the Khanates.

Ancient history of the Thithians was interesting, but Anara hadn’t come here this night to think about history. Her long braid fluttered behind her. The stars were bright, the night warm. The Iizuhlian Khanate princess descended with something particular in mind.

Young boys and girls were often forbidden to visit this place. The statues in their erotic poses and explicit overtones attracted many adults to this place. At twenty-five years, Anara could not be forbidden by either her father or mother to come here, though she always came in secret anyway.

In a beat of air, Raizha’s hooves touched down on the ancient marble at the center of the courtyard. Anara looked about, found no one else there. This late into the evening there never was.

Her eyes roamed the statues on the outer edges of the courtyard surrounding the empty pool. They must have been a wicked people indeed, to be so dedicated to their sexuality, and to display it openly in this manner.

The goddess Lolita was at the far end atop her throne. She was so young. Her robes parted to reveal her bare breasts as she gazed upon the pool in languid satisfaction with her palms raised upward toward the sky. Were there supposed to be streamers of water that fell from them?

Urging her mare onward, Anara’s gaze came to the various other statues of men and women, all captured in moments of hedonism. Wine or sexual acts upon themselves and others was what she expected to see when she came here. Most of the pairs seemed to be self-contained, and yet all part of a single group.

Her imagination was stirring. Some people believed that latent magical abilities could burst free through certain kinds of exploration. Could Anara’s weak magic be stronger than everyone believed? Was the magic in here lying dormant, just waiting to be released, or was she truly weak?

If she were magically competent, she’d be worth more to her parents. Perhaps they would keep her. Magic in the Wind Steppe was a valuable asset, though sometimes traded off to the foreigners bellow. Individuals with magical abilities were often valued by the tribes. It was a way of shoring up power and protection against outside forces.

Raizha whinnied softly. Anara bent over to pat her on the neck. Shhh. It’s all right, girl. Nobody’s here.

She swept her eyes about just to make sure she was alone in the pale moonlight. Because of the white marble, the light of the moons seemed brighter than normal. Of course there was no one here but her. She continued to wander, looking upon the various statues. After a time with the carvings and her own secret thoughts.

Anara enjoyed her visits to this place. She caught herself smirking like a little fool. The Wind Steppe Princess stilled her features and licked her lips.

Chapter Two—A Change of Circumstance

Sighing, Anara sat in the grass atop a hill near the ruins. Looking out over the Wind Steppe, a light breeze tickled past her. It was so peaceful, and even though the flats were nothing new to her, she enjoyed watching them drift through skies on moonlit nights like this. She breathed in deeply as the grass rustled softly about her.

Raizha snorted as she picked at the strands of growth. Anara found herself wondering about the Thithians again, as she always did. What dark magic had they practiced to destroy their own civilization so thoroughly?

No one knew. There were legends. Some said it had been an accident, others thought the ancient wizard Klaus Schuar had done it—but that was mostly the thought of foreigners. Anara had no idea, but…

The hooves of a pegasus thundered behind her. Anara jerked, her hand coming to her chest as she jumped to her feet. Whoever it was, he must have glided in to keep his mount from alerting her by flapping its wings.

Who would—

The man came into view from behind his mount. There you are! Ulshar shouted.

Anara backstopped, but he took her by surprise before she could fully react. With a steel grip that pained her, Ulshar pulled, flinging her into the grass. Anara protected her face by raising her forearms.

I can’t believe you make me leave the feast to come looking for you, he snapped. Get up! We’re leaving.

Anara got up, feeling the heat in her cheeks as she made fists. I’m not going anywhere with you.

Your father sent me.

What does he want?

Ulshar sneered. Instead of saying anything, he regarded her for several moments. Finally he said, He’s finally decided to get rid of you. Duke Korr of Atalaya awaits his betrothed.

She felt something twinge in her guts.

She’d wondered about this for two years. Anara didn’t think it would come to pass. It couldn’t be true. You’re lying, she said coolly.

He chuckled, and something deep in the Wind Steppe princess knew he was telling the truth. Ulshar grabbed her by the upper arm, but she squirmed out of his grip.

If you weren’t one of my father’s sycophants I would gouge your eyes out!

He sneered at her again, the infuriating little worm.

Trying to feign an uncaring attitude, she waved a dismissive hand. I don’t care. And Ulshar, if you touch me again, I’ll be telling my father.

Do you think he’d believe you?

She looked at him then. Something in her reacted. She reached forward, trying to lay hands on his face, but he batted her away. Unable to take the man physically, she used words instead. You’re a creature.

He laughed, snatched her by the arm again and thrust her toward her mount. Let’s go.

And you’re a brute, she continued, making for her pegasus. Raizha kicked at the ground, evidentially as angry as her rider was. Under her breath she muttered, Impotent little man.

This hadn’t been the first time Ulshar had laid hands on her. He liked it; abusing her this way.

Impotent? he snapped.

Gods, she thought. He had heard her. She ignored him completely, though she was concerned about that tone. She was both