Queen’s Man: Discovery

By AnnaMarieAlt

Queen Rejeena and her queen’s man Aarvan face ominous threats. The great queen of Kriiscon is dead. Rejeena’s mortal enemy and Aarvan’s carnal stalker, Queen Tabarana—an abomination, selfish, cruel, and manipulative—looms as the obvious successor. Rejeena and Aarvan must fashion a clever political maneuver to deny Tabarana this exalted, powerful position.

Complicating their efforts, a flashflood forces a face-to-face meeting between Queen Rejeena and Jannsen of the Caana. Though avowed foes, they agree to discourse. Opposing views of Kriiscon, women ruling, and men slaves brought to light and laid bare, challenged and defended, sharp tongues replacing slicing steel.

Treason compounds Rejeena’s problems. Did Shabet, Rejeena’s long-time friend and captain, reverse her loyalty? Captain Locin, Aarvan’s protector, conspires to reveal a definitive pointer to Shabet’s guilt. Which captain will the queen believe? If she doesn’t choose wisely, guiltless lives will be lost.

Aarvan confronts his own disaster. A catastrophic event hurls him backward in memory where he will unearth lost truths and discover the origin of his inner beast. Will that savage monster support him as he faces new dangers or consume him, eradicating the honest, steadfast man he has become?

Together, Rejeena and Aarvan must seek a path to save them and their island from devastation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 19, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984561008

AnnaMarieAlt

AnnaMarieAlt enjoys a passion for writing romantic fantasy fiction, building otherworldly realms. Her two careers, the military followed by civil service, exposed her to varied cultures, races, religions, and beliefs stateside and abroad—England, Continental Europe, the Far East, the South, North, Southeast, Hawaii and Kentucky, where she now resides. This exposure granted her a rounded view of the world and a host of invaluable knowledge that she now brings to her fantasy creations. These experiences, earning a college degree, while surviving and supporting the Women’s Liberation Movement launched her understanding of herself as a woman and a writer. She writes to convey her myriad experiences, because she cannot not write—to share the legacy of a lifetime and accept that we are all human. AnnaMarie has written the Queen’s Man series, an adventurous, romantic fantasy, about the island of Kriiscon, where women rule and men are slaves. The series encompasses the struggle between a domineering but curse-haunted queen and a mysterious, audacious Mainland man, the twisted struggle between women and men for supremacy, culminating in the battle of star-crossed empires. Her words expose the ugly underbelly of the human race and illumine the power of virtue, while following the grinding agony of a culture in the throes of change. Life’s ambition: Fully grown, AnnaMarie wants to be just like Granny Clampett.

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Copyright © 2018 by AnnaMarieAlt.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 11/13/2018

Xlibris

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The Queen’s Man Series:

A twisted, epic tale of the struggle between woman and man for supremacy.

1. Queen’s Man: Into The Inferno (Available Now)

2. Queen’s Man: Beyond The Corridor (Available Now)

3. Queen’s Man: Conflict (Available Now)

4. Queen’s Man: Enter The Caana (Available Now)

5. Queen’s Man: Treachery (Available Now)

6. Queen’s Man: Decision (Available Now)

7. Queen’s Man: Paaerta Hunt (Available Now)

8. Queen’s Man: Discovery (Available Now)

9. Queen’s Man: Of Glaalet Kind (Coming Soon)

Twelve Books In All

Website: www.annamariealt.com

Women rule on the island of Kriiscon and hold all men as slaves. On the opposite shore, men rule the Mainland and treat women as mere chattel.

A decade-long curse denies haughty Queen Rejeena of Kriiscon the greatest gift from their goddess, the gift of daughters. Coupled with the threat of assassination from her outlaw cousin, Rejeena’s very existence and happiness hang steeped in jeopardy.

The queen’s life changes forever when a Mainland man, Aarvan, plagued with no memory, awakens on Kriiscon. Rejeena claims him as her queen’s man. The island’s way of life infuriates and repels Aarvan, yet a potent, exotic attraction binds Queen Rejeena and him together. Even as conflicts rage, both their own and those of outside forces, their passion deepens.

The island is plagued with conflict—assassination efforts; posses of men battling for independence; more powerful, lustful queens; developing disloyalty within the queen’s guard ranks. Aarvan and Rejeena must battle all foes, who seek to separate and destroy them—emanating from both the Mainland, with vast numbers and superior weapons, and Kriiscon itself.

Ultimately, queen and queen’s man must confront each other, seek to overcome cruelty, intolerance and injustice as they build a bridge to harmony and love—a long journey fraught with adventure, intrigue and mortal danger. All the while, standing together, they must strive to gratify the Mainland, unite the raging forces upon the island, and control the destiny of Kriiscon.

Is such a harmony of feats even possible?

Aarvan stood and waited, smiling at the enthusiasm of the women over a wild flower. Always flourishing in the outtowne of the island of Kriiscon, another natural bloom seemed routine to the queen’s man.

This is so enchanting, Queen Rejeena cried, standing over a patch of large-leafed green bushes sporting red-orange blooms. Each flower flared open, with two black spots on one side and a bright red slash on the other, face turned to the sun, which late in the day sank as a red ball beneath the horizon. The blooms appeared as tiny bright, distorted human visages, and an aroma akin to sweaty skin wafted from them. I have not seen aatea blooms in the wild since I was a child. They grow only in certain areas, in particular hard, rocky, mountainous soil. She waved around at the craggy peaks crowding them, the trail they had been following scouring its determined way along the bottom of the dell. A dogged wind pushed against them, sloughing through the surrounding tree branches, rustling leaves and resounding an echoing dirge against the mountainsides.

Rejeena clasped her hands before her. Oh, I want so to pick some, but they will but wither away and then there will be fewer to enjoy another time.

Her guards, Chief Latere and Line Leader Dannsea, stood on each side of the queen, and gazed raptly at the flowers. Captain Shabet, the queen’s guard captain slouched to one side, near Aarvan. She frowned, and her eyes rolled toward the sky. Rejeena did not notice, so Shabet allowed her complete boredom to show.

Rejeena espied the flowers earlier and dashed across the valley, so small it stretched hardly wider than a gorge. Upon Captain Shabet’s order, the women of the queen’s traveling convoy busily set their camp for the night. With the valley so narrow, only the three guards followed the queen and queen’s man. Three were sufficient for the venture.

The queen sighed and glanced back across the valley floor. I shall be most glad to be back in Rejeena’s Towne and my own Quarter Seven, she declared. The entire trip to Tabarana’s Towne turned into a disaster of the worst degree—the paaerta hunt, the attack by that gargantua. She paused and swallowed as though a lump caught in her throat. The death of our great queen.

Indeed, My Queen, Shabet said. The loss of Great Queen Annannear distresses the entire island. Ripples of anguish will be felt all across Kriiscon.

Rejeena turned back to peer at the aatea blooms. Yes, Captain, and with the great queen dancing upon the four winds, wending through her journey to LaSheena’s Forest Glen, all women stand at present without a ruling staffed personage—the island of Kriiscon with no single hand upon the guiding helm. Soon all eight quarter queens will needs meet to remedy the situation.

And we get stuck with another unfortunate council including Queen Tabarana, Aarvan griped. Everywhere I turn, that sorry excuse for a woman pops up like a menacing ghoul, threatening me, giving me the evil eye and putting her clammy claws all over my body. I can’t escape—we can’t escape her repulsive influence.

Rejeena nodded, mouth pulling into a frown. Yes, and if her influence—as you suspect, Aarvan—led to that devastating paaerta attack and resulting demise of the great queen, the meeting could become most interesting. She paused, thought, then snickered into her hand. Especially since you have already accused her of that atrocious perfidy.

Aarvan glared with narrowed eyes at the gray clouds, rimmed with pink from the vanishing sun, riding the horizon. I still believe she committed that atrocious perfidy. Fate, though, rolled against her, placed the great queen instead of you in the deathtrap she created.

I am not convinced Tabarana intended my death? Why would she? I am a short-staff—certainly not a threat to her.

My Queen, open your eyes! Your new laws. You know she’ll be decidedly opposed to them. He waved a hand at himself. Then there’s me, my body, which she seems to still crave. Like I would touch the bitch if she were the last woman on the face of the Earth! Worst of all, you publicly embarrassed and disgraced her by besting her in Conflict of Queens. His gaze dropped from the sky to the mountainside and his fists clenched. Sometimes I wish that harridan would trip and fall into the deepest, darkest hole of Nether—one she couldn’t slither out of.

In that wish, Aarvan, Rejeena said, you do not stand alone. However, by law and tradition, she may not carry that dispute, nor any harsh feelings, out of conflict. It is a matter of queenly honor.

He snorted. When was the last time you noticed Queen Tabarana concern herself with law and tradition unless it holds some advantage for her? That woman wouldn’t recognize honor, queenly or otherwise, if she tripped over it and fell flat on her face.

We must contend with her, regardless of our wishes, Rejeena said, a long-suffering sigh manifesting itself in her tone. She leaned over to peer closely at the aatea flowers.

Something wet touched Aarvan’s toe. He looked down and frowned. A trickle of water pushed against his doeskin boot, seeping through the lacing holes, followed by a bigger trickle. Water? Here? It’s dry. A muffled roar, before covered by their conversation and the sound of the wind, accosted his ears. Great LaSheena, that huge rainstorm earlier. We’re in a narrow valley.

He looked to the right. The trickle quickly grew to a torrent. The roar of the deluge expanded, booming, threatening.

My Queen! he yelled. Women, get up that slope. Climb!

They all spun to face him. He pointed to the onrushing water, which now swirled and roiled, a mud-colored torrent boiling around a flange of rocks, tearing down the valley. Flash flood! Aarvan bellowed. Get up the hill. Run! Now! He whirled to the captain. Blow your whistle! Warn those on the other side.

She scowled. We must get back across.

We can’t! Blow your whistle! My Queen, climb! Latere, take her. Do It! He reached and snatched the captain’s battle whistle, as she stood flat-footed. He nearly jerked his head into hers getting it to his lips. He blew loud and long.

Across the valley, women looked their way. He pointed toward the surging water. The women began to scream at each other. He hoped they’d hurry. A lot of good women over there and excellent horses stood at jeopardy. He turned his attention back to the queen and the ones on this side he could help.

Understanding had dawned upon them, and all four women scrambled up the steep side of the ridge. The guards shoved and pulled at the queen.

Queen Rejeena kept glancing back until she saw Aarvan following. Then she began to climb quickly.

He looked across the space again. Already water splashed and raced down the middle of the steep-sided valley between the two groups. The full force of the torrent had not yet arrived, but it would shortly. The ear-numbing roar reached a crescendo, drowning all other sound. On the other side, women desperately released horses to gallop away, some flinging themselves aboard the fleeing mounts, some racing for the rock and brush covered hillside.

Aarvan kept climbing, water wrapping around and tugging at his ankles.

Rejeena paused, looked down.

Keep climbing! Keep climbing! he yelled and waved an upward motion. He couldn’t tell if she heard him over the thunder of the torrent.

Captain Shabet slipped and slewed sideways.

He grabbed her arm, shoved her back into position, wincing at the smart of pain from the still-sore glaalet bite in his left arm. She resumed climbing without a glance at him.

Water now swirled around his calves. He scrambled upward, but made sure all the women stayed above him. If one slipped, he could grab her.

The flood reached his knees, and a piece of debris riding high atop the flow smashed into his hip. He lost his grip with one hand, jerked by the whipping current. Grabbing a shrub to save himself, he noted the captain. She alone had seen his danger and been close enough to offer a hand. She merely smirked at him. Bitch! If she loses her grip again, I hope she likes the taste of muddy water.

The queen glanced back. He waved her on with a momentarily free hand. The raging flood now covered him to the waist. It worked toward his chest, rising faster than he could climb and keep all the women ahead of him.

He saw the queen grasp a bush, which appeared to grow on the rim of a ledge or trail. A hand, attached to someone he couldn’t see because of the bushes, reached to clasp Rejeena’s free hand. Who’s up there? Are they friend or foe? With the hand pulling and Latere shoving at her rear end, the queen slithered over the edge. Latere followed.

Dannsea’s feet slipped from beneath her as footing gave way. She shrieked a soft cry and fell back into the swirling flood.

Aarvan grabbed her arm with one hand. The force of the rushing water tore him loose, his grip with the sore arm hampered. The ravenous flood jerked Dannsea and him into its turbid embrace. He hung onto her.

They crashed into a large bush growing from the ridge side. Both grabbed hold. The water sucked and pulled. Gripped their legs. Jerked their bodies. Greedily strained to whirl them away. A tree limb, pushed along by the current, raced at them. Dannsea grabbed Aarvan. Ducked with him under the water. Still gripping the bush. The main limb spun by above them, striking and scratching with attached boughs as it went. They bobbed to the surface, gasping. Hand over hand they worked their way back to the rocks. Aarvan’s sore arm, which had been struck by the limb, throbbed.

Dannsea wedged her foot into a hole and started to climb. Come on, Queen’s Man, she yelled. I cannot leave you.

He managed to get a purchase on some rocks and pulled upward. Go on. Go on. He waved her forward.

She climbed but cast glances back at him.

I best hang on. That idiot girl would jump in after me. He struggled on, dragging himself upward, fighting the tug of the surging water. Captain Shabet had vanished. He assumed she had made the ledge with the queen. Latere’s worried face peered over the edge. Her mouth worked, but her words were lost in the thunder of the flood. She reached a hand to aid Dannsea. Another face Aarvan didn’t recognize looked down. It was a man, and he wore a thick mustache. Blast, a man! With facial hair. What man? What group? A danger to my queen? Any group with facial hair would be a danger to the queen. And there were only three guards on that ledge. Fear set his heart to thumping, and he surged upward against the clinging tug of the flood. The deluge sucked at him, seeming animate in its appetite to claim him, disallow his escape. Frustration enhanced the fear tearing at his insides.

The water receded to Aarvan’s waist again. Maybe it had done its worst. A rock rolled from under his foot. He swung partially loose again. A spinning piece of debris hit him in the chest. His back smacked into the rocks. Blast, that hurt! His arm whacked the debris. Blast, that really hurt. He hung on with one hand and one foothold.

Dangling precariously, he felt a hand grip his swinging wrist. It jerked him up toward the ledge, sending another slashing scorch of pain through the arm.

He lifted his eyes, and gazed at a sardonic smile surrounded by a beard. The dark brown eyes of Jannsen, leader of the Caana-Caana Cuu, met Aarvan’s blue ones.

Come on, Porch Dog, climb, Jannsen yelled. Second wave’s coming.

Feeling the resurgence of the water tugging at his chest, Aarvan fumbled and found another cleft for his foot. Him pushing, Jannsen pulling, he struggled onto the ledge. The rage, that deadly presence which lived always inside him, did not alert to danger. So he collapsed for a moment, gasping, catching his breath, resting his aching arm in his lap. Still sitting, he turned, pushing around with his heels. Despite the quietude of the rage, they were Caana, definitely not friends.

Jannsen and five other Caana, four men and one woman, crowded the ledge to his left. Captain Shabet and Chief Latere faced them to the right, fronting the queen against the enemy. With Aarvan safe on the ledge, Dannsea ran to join the other guards. Swords filled every hand except those of Jannsen and the queen. Shields formed defensive barriers on both sides.

Jannsen stood over the queen’s man, still smiling. He offered his hand, and Aarvan took it, allowing the Caana to help him to his feet. They stood almost toe-to-toe, eyes locked.

Do we need to climb higher? Aarvan asked.

No. Jannsen shook his head. The water never gets this high.

You’ve been here before?

Porch Dog, you’ve unfortunately discovered one of our best hideouts. It’ll be useless after this. Thanks.

Sorry about that. Far be it from me to expose your hideout. Aarvan glanced at the surging flood. But staying down there didn’t seem a good option.

I imagine not. Jannsen gestured. Have your guards put away their swords, and I’ll have my people do the same. I don’t think anyone holds an advantage here.

Aarvan lifted a brow. A short time back you sent word by Dannsea that our truce was over. You going to pass up this opportunity?

Jannsen turned his head, looked at his five people, then at the three guards. His gaze returned to settle on Aarvan. He scrutinized the queen’s man with an insolent stare. You’ve only three guards, Porch Dog. We could likely take them. But, with you in full fighting fettle to back them up, maybe I’ll extend that truce a bit.

I’ll take that as a compliment, Aarvan said, then faced the guards. Captain, you might want to put those swords away. No one rules here unless it’s your LaSheena.

I do not take edicts from you or the likes of Caana. Shabet waggled her sword as if to accentuate the point.

Then take them from your queen, Captain, Rejeena said. Under the circumstances, I do not believe the Caana will attack.

Shields lowered and swords slid back into their scabbards. The two groups stood watching each other. A unique and unexpected flourish of fate—Caana, a queen’s man, a queen and her guards gathered face to face without hostility.

Aarvan said, Thanks for the lift, Jannsen. That water and those rocks had nearly whipped me. He stood drenched, water dripping onto the ledge.

Glad to be of assistance. I don’t want you drowned, Porch Dog. I want you converted. The Caana foredoyan still wore his smug, insolent expression.

Aarvan matched the expression, meeting Jannsen’s eyes. We all have to suffer unrealized dreams. The likelihood of my conversion to the Caana stands even with LaSheena and Goosran becoming great pals.

Jannsen pointed at Aarvan’s bandaged arm. What happened? One of your guards get mad at you?

Long story, but not a guard, Aarvan said. He smoothed his features into blandness and stepped around the Caana leader to face the others. He smiled and offered his hand to the woman. Reefa, I believe we’ve met before.

She smirked. Indeed we have, Queen’s Man. But I do not shake; it is a disgusting Mainland custom. When we manage to capture you—which we will sooner or later—I shall then demonstrate the portion of your anatomy I wish to grasp.

He sighed and turned to the man beside her, still offering his hand. Peter, shall we let bygones be bygones?

Peter scowled, eyes narrowing. He took a step back, and shoved his hands behind him.

I guess not, Aarvan said dryly. He turned to the large blond man.

The blond strode forward, grinned and gripped Aarvan’s hand. I’ll shake, Queen’s Man, but don’t let it fool you. Conversion is the only thing that gives a queen’s man value.

Aarvan returned his grin. I’ll remember that. Koortor … is it?

The blond nodded.

An older man, with a sharp hawkish face, one of the two remaining, growled, Don’t bother offering your hand or your greeting, Queen’s Dote. He jerked his head toward his companion. We don’t recognize you as a man so long as you wear those double buttons. You’re lower than dogshit and stink like mertan’s rot.

His companion nodded. Exactly right, Blass.

Aarvan dropped his hand, opened his mouth, said, Fine, you ta … He closed his mouth.

Go ahead, Porch Dog, say it, Jannsen said. You’re thinking it.

Aarvan turned his back on the two rude Caana and walked away. No. Because they’ve no manners, doesn’t mean I don’t.

You were going to call me that name a while back, Jannsen muttered. You threatened to call me taat faarat.

The queen’s man stopped and peered over his shoulder. I needed to get your attention.

And you don’t need theirs?

Aarvan flicked the two men a dismissive glance. No, I don’t need anything from them. He continued toward the guards, gesturing ahead of him. "Come on, Jannsen, maybe it’s time you meet Rejeena, a Queen of Kriiscon, face to face.

Jannsen followed. Sure one of those guards won’t try to gut me?

Can’t offer a promise, but I’ll try to prevent that, as long as you behave.

The Caana’s laugh grated low, harsh. The few times we’ve met, when have you observed me behave?

Aarvan glanced sideways at him, as Jannsen now walked beside him. Actually, never … but try. It might prove a new, enlightening experience for you. He stopped out of sword reach of the women. He pointed to the three guards, one at a time. You behave, too. Keep those swords sheathed, and keep your insults to yourselves.

Captain Shabet sneered but did not speak. Chief Latere stood spine straight, hand hanging near sword, eyes cold. Dannsea, small mouth tightly pursed, squinted at Jannsen.

My Queen, Aarvan said with an inviting hand gesture.

Rejeena stepped forward, passing between Latere and Shabet. She planted her feet, haughty, eyes frigid.

My Queen, Aarvan said, may I present Jannsen of the Caana-Caana Cuu. Jannsen, Queen Rejeena of Quarter Seven.

Queen and Caana glowered at each other.

Jannsen spoke first. I sincerely hope you don’t expect me to bow, O Queen.

Rejeena’s chin rose and the green eyes glared. I expect naught from a Caana. Bowing will not stay the noose which awaits your arrogant neck.

Jannsen laughed. You’ll have to get me and the noose together first, O Queen. Small chance of that, considering the inefficiency of your women’s efforts thus far. He thrust out his hand. Perhaps you’d care to shake.

I would sooner shake hands with Goosran. His fetid grip would but draw me into the bowels of Nether. Better there, than into a consortium of Caana.

Well, you can’t say I didn’t try. Jannsen’s gaze flicked to Aarvan. Am I behaving so far, Porch Dog?

The night is just beginning, Aarvan said.

The Caana crossed his arms and regarded Rejeena from his superior height. I have to admit, O Queen, your law changes have impressed me. I’m surprised—coming from you.

Indeed? This queen stood unaware Caana held the intelligence to be impressed. She cocked her head. Why then did you send a missive to my queen’s man stating you were not enthralled and you would be again skulking about, seeking him for nefarious purposes?

A grin blossomed amidst the beard. I wanted to get his attention—and yours. Your laws are just a start. We need much more and we need it fast.

You will garner what I wish when I so wish it.

Spoken like a true, arrogant queen of pomposity—excuse me, of Kriiscon.

That’s not behaving, Aarvan growled.

The path of good behavior should have two sides, Jannsen said.

Rejeena tossed her auburn locks. Queens, of pomposity or otherwise, do not answer to such as Caana concerning their actions.

This is correct, O Queen, you don’t, Jannsen said. You queens don’t answer to anyone. Men have no recourse to gain justice, through law or even human decency. And that is why the Caana exists—to counter some of that.

The Caana and the queen stared at one another in silence.

Jannsen gestured across the water-filled valley where flashes of guards and other persons of the queen’s traveling convoy could be seen through the brush and around the rocks on the other ridge. Most of your women seem to be stuck over there and we over here. We’ll all remain in that position for at least the night.

What about the other side of this crest? Aarvan asked, pointing toward the top of the mountain. Can we climb further and come down the other side?

You can climb all you want, Porch Dog. But you’ll find the other side the same as this one. We’ve used this ridge for—Jannsen granted Queen Rejeena and Captain Shabet a wicked smile—quite a number of seasons. When it floods, the entire valley on both sides is inundated. He pointed to the right, the direction of the water flow. There is a cleft in the peaks that allows the water to escape, but it usually takes a while. If something big, like your traveling coach and other wagons, happens to wedge into it among the rocks that are already there, it could take even longer. You might as well settle down and make yourselves comfortable. You’ll be here the remainder of the night.

How do we know you speak truth? Shabet spat. A Caana cannot be trusted.

Jannsen waved his hand at the towering crest of the ridge. Be my guest, Captain. Climb up and see for yourself. However, I must warn you, other creatures inhabit this ridge. Tarag cats. Maybe a bear or two. Snakes. The floods upset them and make them a little crazy, gives them temperaments even nastier than yours.

Dannsea stepped forward, hand settling on sword hilt. Caana, you may not speak so to a queen’s guard captain.

Dannsea. Aarvan’s voice carried a warning edge.

Her hand lifted from the sword, but she continued to glare at Jannsen.

The Caana leader’s gaze switched to her. My little guard. It must surely be fate that we keep meeting.

Were it not for my queen’s man, it would be fate that I skewer you at this moment.

Little Guard, that’s not friendly.

Dannsea stretched to full height, eyes squinted. I do not befriend Caana. We already know that I can—

Dannsea! Again, Aarvan’s voice stopped her.

She thought about Jannsen’s and her last meeting, remembered the queen and Shabet stood near. She puffed out her breath and stepped back.

Jannsen smirked, but turned his attention back to Queen Rejeena. Let me offer you an invitation, O Queen, since we seem to be thrown together by circumstances. He pointed back through his people standing on the ledge. We have a cave here nicely set up with cooking area, sleeping quarters, almost like home. When your travel group appeared, we had been settling down for an evening meal. Your starting to make camp caused us a bit of a dilemma. Then the flood hit, and changed the whole bailiwick.

His eyes flicked over Aarvan and Dannsea. It appears a couple of your party could use dry clothing, maybe some cleanup and bandaging. He motioned to Aarvan’s arm. We can furnish that. He bent at the waist, making a sweeping gesture with one arm. Suppose we all go inside, have coffee, eat and converse.

Rejeena stood quietly for a bit, head canted as she regarded him. Aarvan? she asked.

Shabet’s mouth twisted and her eyes jumped from the queen to the queen’s man.

It’s more inviting than standing on this ledge, My Queen, Aarvan said.

Very well, Caana.

You know, O Queen, I do have a name, Jannsen said.

You expect me to grant you the courtesy of speaking your name when you call my queen’s man this porch dog?

He is a porch dog.

Rejeena looked at Aarvan.

He shrugged. I am a porch dog.

Rejeena frowned. I do not understand this porch dog.

Captain Shabet stepped forward. She glared at both Aarvan and Jannsen. My Queen, there is naught to understand. It is a disgusting man thing. Your queen’s man and this Caana conspire; they hold themselves to be amusing. Her hand dropped to her sword. Let us dispense with these Caana. Then we may explore how to return to the other guards. We have only his—she jerked her head at the Caana leader—word that we are trapped.

Aarvan’s voice rang soft, low but the rage glinting in his eyes speared Shabet’s. Captain, don’t even consider pulling that sword. You will not, under these circumstances, start a fight you may not win and maybe get my queen injured or killed.

Shabet, Rejeena said, Aarvan is correct. Despite these persons being Caana, let us remain sensible. She turned to Jannsen, releasing a long breath as though puffing away some of her haughtiness. I will use your name since Aarvan does not resent your reference to him. However, if you or your people again use one of those disgusting, insulting terms you call queens’ men, my women and I will retaliate with appropriate terms. Is that clear?

That’s clear, O Queen. Jannsen’s smile didn’t waver. He turned and gestured again out the trail and through his people. Shall we all go to dinner?

Rejeena and Aarvan walked forward side by side. Latere and Shabet followed, Dannsea behind them.

As Dannsea passed Jannsen, he made a kissing motion with his lips.

With one hand, she pointed toward her dagger. Her other hand dropped to her crotch, tugging as though gripping an invisible phallus. She made a slashing motion with her dagger hand, then smirked.

He grinned, a carnal grimace, then followed the queen’s group.

Before Aarvan and Rejeena reached the mouth of the cave, Peter stepped forward. He planted his feet and barred their way. He sneered, I don’t want this smut and garbage queen’s dote where I have to eat.

Rejeena sucked in her breath, eyes narrowing.

Aarvan spoke softly, Peter, you really are an ass. Get out of our way.

Time stopped while Aarvan’s blue eyes and Peter’s pale brown ones stabbed at each other like a pair of immobile stilettos.

Peter’s face twitched, his breath jerked in and out. I should … His hand moved toward his sword.

We’ve already danced that dance, Aarvan said. This time, you go in the drink. He pointed at the raging floodwater.

Jannsen roared, Peter, enough! I said they go in, they go in.

Peter stood, lips twitching, hand