(Part 1)

Heck, ain't that darn-close, Zalea thought as she sighed with immense relief. Now to find that pesky peon...

"Yasnar, dead," this princess murmured to herself as she walked on. "That fat gopher earlier does have a point--death comes for all of us. Yet this will also be the first time Dad's gonna select a vazir. Can't help but wonder... what values is he gonna stress most?"

The princess paused again after some time, closed her eyes, and sighed.

"All said and done," she observed, "I still haven't come to lead armies, nor probably ever would... unlike you, Akhi. Here I am, just playin' nice at the palace and court, protected, comforted... yet its tricks are provin' to be tenfold more intense than when all ya have to do is charge headlong and bash whatever's before ya to bits! Heck if I care whether ya're doin' all that with heathens by yer side, darn it, just... Mustafa, wherever you are right now, let's each do our best from now on for this very realm that my granddad had lost, and that our dad had, in his turn, been trying so hard to preserve!"

She heard a soft snicker just then. "How the prince would be most elated to hear that, Princess, with due respect... and this coming from the least-attributed to graces of his sisters, to think of it."

Zalea recognized the voice, and glared at its owner. "Aska, you wretch..! Just how long have ya been there?!"

"I make no apologies. Your lady mother had urged that secrecy is most paramount; thus I have come, with the late vazir's last will now in possession. Shall you now undertake to take it back to her, may I ask?"

"Nah--'do it all the way', Mom did say. See to that. I just wanna help bring ya back to her... do ya mind?"

Aska met the princess gaze, smiling. "Not like this humble servant can turn that down with impunity, now can I?"

"Wise guy," this princess jeered. "Shall we?"

"After you, Princess... though, if you'd be kind enough, I'd also like to talk about various things; the better to mask the real intent of this, ah, trip."

Zalea nodded. "Heck, I am feelin' 'specially generous today. Anything you might wanna know 'til we got back to Mom's presence--go for it."

The servant obliged, beginning to walk in small steps some distance behind Azalea. "As I've said earlier, Your Excellency, your proclivity to treat servants like myself a tad poorly has preceded you. May I ask why that is?"

This princess grinned. "Why not? Yer lot's already gotten Lei who's downright ladylike in her treatment; or Rashid, that oh-so-dutiful freak. Mu's a fine mix, darn him... but with me ya ain't gonna get either. Just straight orders, and if ya don't like 'em, might as well damn yerselves."

"Ah, but you see... cold as your lady mother might seem, she still possess some grace-"

"So what? I'm not her. I been looking up to her, but I define 'grace' my own way and I don't care if others would like it or not. I know I'm after truth when others are often too afraid to reveal it; I KNOW I've been in dangers others might simply have laughed at. Yet here I am, tryin' to listen to a mere peon- my old self woulda scoffed at that very thought."

"Hmm... could it be your way to command respect, then? Through frankness?"

"Heck, everyone else has their ways: Lei through manners; Ras, wits; Dastra, obedience. Mine you now know. Is that so wrong?"

"Be that as it may, Princess... does that render you above offering apologies?"

She pursed her lips. "Depends. What have I done to ya?"

Thus prompted, Aska finally related to her the tangerine incident and how, up until that time, Zalea had not made the necessary apologies.

"Hmm... that's too long ago, either way," the princess remarked, "but, yeah- I apologize, if that's what ya so badly wanted to hear. Think I'd have to try treating yer lot a tad better from now-"

"Remains to be seen, daughter, but there's a damn-nice start if I'm any judge," Mirani joined, for the pair had by now come at the mouth of the fork leading to her study. "First things first. Got what ya went for, slowpokes?"

Aska lowered his gaze in budding deference. Perhaps, it occurred to him, more people like Mama Viper and her fiery lass might just be what the Amir needed to cut through the webs of under-the-table lies and second thoughts. That way, this peon mused, the loss of more like Yasnar to seditious forces might at least be thwarted.

"As it would definitely please Your Excellency," came the reply.

***

Apart from the late vazir's last will, as it turned out, Aska had also brought to Mama Viper attention, the very last document that Yasnar had been working on: that concerning the 'Black Hand', as well as some personal notes revealing the writer's knowledge of "serpent-shaped ships coming from the north"; hence the apt reference "Nordmen".

As Mirani sifted through these notes in particular, one after another, her expression grew more somber.

"Not looking too-darn good, these," she remarked, putting the notes aside for the moment in the privacy of her study, having related their contents to her daughter, who lingered on. "For even Yasnar to have been keeping close tabs on these guys... They must be quite the mariners, if they presumed their ships capable at all of reaching our shores."

The princess shrugged, trying to emulate her mother's apparent stoic disregard for methods. "Just 'nother contingency to be prepared for, nowhere too near us anyhow. That 'Black Hand', now... sounds nauseating, granted, but it's something that geezer's put considerably-high attention to. What the heck's that all about, anyway?"

Mira read the answer off the document. "'Bunch of extortion rings, discovered to have been operating from within Elbar; organizers remain as yet unknown. Contact with part-time informers afield established ten days ago, names herein listed. Jade Block: Zena...'"

"That pest?!" Zalea blurted. Her mother looked up quizzically, an eyebrow raised.

"Someone you know, dear?"

"First real friend," the princess admitted, flushed. "Seen her twice this week, once with Rashid. Heck of a fox, that Zena, quick of tongue and mind-"

"The very sort to have on our side, think you?"

"She's an urchin, Mom!"

"Let's not spar with me on this, Zal; ya did once, and must still remember how that felt. Only reason I agreed to let ya play 'round with that old-timer, is so we can figure out just what his next plans are. Now we have, and he's dead. It's up to us to take up the stick, and transform it from wooden to spiked steel. Together. What say you?"

"Heck, I liked that geezer," Zalea related at length. "If by helping my friend I might somehow sniff out whomever else might have helped Razin bring harm to my potential mentor, Mom, I'm all for it!"

"Fine spirits," Mama Viper observed. "Start tomorrow. Find Zena, get her to know the new outlook. How you handle the rest is not my concern, the more to give ya room for ingenuity. Prime target, loosen the Black Hand's grip in this city... as a start. Clear?"

Zalea's countenance at that moment was the sort that the Dragoness herself might have paused to behold.

"Aye!"

***

For Urdin, Yasnar's death was--despite its inevitability--a portend of sorts.

Aside from the Amir's own elder brother Imran--who had helped polish his skills first as a raider then a commander, back in the heady days of their father Husnir's principality, centered on Balaras--Yasnar had then been instrumental in providing the aspiring leader with a brand-new target to showcase his newfound prowess: the decaying Izurian Empire. Together they had governed since then, long after Imran's passing.

Now Yasnar too was taken from his side, and with him, another one of the actual conquerors of Elbar. Someone new would now have to be considered for the vazir position; something that the Amir had paid scant attention previously.

To whom, then, might I turn for advice at this hour? The Amir pondered, currently alone in his throne room. Nor did Yasnar bother to furnish any names...

A thought crossed him then, at which the Amir chuckled.

"You seem to think, Yas," he murmured, almost to himself, "that I'm quite capable of making choices from this pool of able candidates that you have left me? Well, that's not nearly wrong, more so at this age... but we've ruled together for so long, I was this close to take your counsel for granted. Very well, let's see if I can even pull out, on my own, the right name of my prime official for these years of rule remaining to me..."

Just as he was about to start mulling over these very names, the Amir was reminded that his second consort was asking to see him.

"What?" he prompted, seeing her approach. "I was hoping I could reflect on Yasnar's replacement better from here, yet it would seem that I couldn't get even this much luxury to myself... I still want to mourn for him, darn you!"

"Peace be to you, love." Mirani curtsied twenty paces from the throne, the earlier outburst hardly bothering her at all--outwardly at least. "See, this is just the sort of thing I came for. I feared you'd be too grief-stricken to attend to more official matters."

"And why wouldn't I have grieved in the first place, woman? To you, perhaps, Yasnar was little better than a traitor beckoning to turn your old realm to powder; but to me he had been an almost-constant companion... Do you not grieve for your father still, I never asked?"

Mama Viper's countenance hardened at this. "You of all people would actually tell me to cherish the memory of my father? The very same man whose realm ya wrested?!"

"Realm or not, he's still your father-"

Mirani stepped up to the throne and slapped the Amir across the face right where he sat.

"I don't want to hear that from you, Urdin! Do you have any idea where your so-called 'triumph' had put me--heck, shall I remind?! Decades of neglect to my... our kids, 'specially Azalea, whom I could have molded to be a way better lass than she is, or Dastra for that matter; all out of my selfish desire to prove that people ya happened to defeat on the field that one time ain't inferior by nature! No thanks to Ves and her thus-far elementary understanding of 'heathens'... Yasnar, that arch-traitor, dead? Spares me the trouble of makin' it so with every ounce of justice, much as I've grown to respect him. Get a move on!"

The Amir flushed. "I will not have Yasnar's memory besmirched by the likes of-!"

"The daughter to his king, to whom he'd owed every bit of loyalty!" Mira cut in, seething. "O ye whose religion preaches such values as loyalty and steadfastness--why the heck would you have suffered your entire reign to have been polluted by a traitor in yer midst? Huh?! Mourn a traitor, my butt! Had I any say, Yasnar's rotting body would still have to hang, and you'll look on and smile, darn it!"

The silence was allowed to stretch, during which Mama Viper took deep breaths to calm herself.

"But Allah Is Benevolent," she continued, a tad gentler. "You're still being given a chance. Someone new in that same position... this time, make doubly sure you select the right one, darling, for the years that lie ahead. Now, may I relate why I'm here, or would ya rather see me out for that earlier imprudence?"

Urdin made no move, so in ten more minutes Zalea's mother pointed out the long-gnawing existence of the 'Black Hand' in the shadows; as well as her plan--with his permission, please?--to have their headstrong daughter rip it apart root and stem.

"Azalea is a child, and a girl besides," Urdin reminded his visitor at the conclusion of this narration. "You would have her take on such an organization, much as that would've meant uprooting another weed within my realm? Are you sane?"

"How old had you been when you first set out to, ah, 'turn my realm to powder'? Zal's only gonna take on some street ruffians, and perhaps a grade higher or three. Heck, it would still not even compare with her eldest brother's taking on real armies up north, alongside heathens, as Ves would have it... oh yes, you better decide on how to handle that too. Still, as I was saying, it's the kind of service Zal would be more than delighted to pull off; a display of merits, I call it. What say you?"

The Amir narrowed his eyes. "And how exactly did you learn of this... project of Yasnar's? Did he relate this to you personally?"

"Would it really matter now?" Mira shrugged. "Do recall, you allowed our daughter to have an audience with that egghead the day before last. Azalea needs refinement in many ways still, granted, but some domestic matters as this one she'd need to start learning, like the full-blown princess she is.

"Not knowing just what to do with that kind of information on her own," she resumed, "that lass saw fit to relay it to yours truly, and I to you. Should that suit you better, dear, you might even wanna grant me free reins on this; that way you could devote more effort to selecting your new prime official, thereby ensuring the continued smooth run of this Amirate ya've been laboring so damn-hard for... as no doubt Yas would've wished. Hmm? Ask Zal yourself if you wish, though I honestly doubt she'd have put it any nicer than this."

The grizzled warrior stroked his own chin. "I will. Oh, and Mira..."

"What?"

"Thank you, for that earlier insight. I shouldn't have been so intemperate as to mention Tharion again, for that matter. Some wounds never fully heal."

Again Mama Viper looked up, and for a terrifying second the Amir fancied himself being struck for a second time. Instead, his second consort only huffed.

"Don't... mind me," she blushed. "Since ya've admitted to being intemperate in that respect--something I wish my late father had had the nerve to utter to my face--do treat yer kids better from here on... and I mean the whole lot. When was the last time you were a true dad to any of 'em, not a freakin' battle commander? Hmm? Now, Mu's gettin' home and of yer ilk with that other wench, I respect him the most. Be gentle with 'im and the others will notice in due time. Takin' my leave."

(Part 2)

Even as new plans were being formulated within the palace, outside it, Lady Vestra was at last coming around to see and appreciate--if still lukewarm--the point of her firstborn working side by side with people of differing faiths. The jihad, in her hostess's view, would thus need to be redefined: from actively subjugating others to holding onto the grounds that had taken decades to win.

"So, Lady Lista, you are saying," Vestra observed, "that this heathen girl might not be a cause for concern, after all?"

"For now," Alista agreed, further making her point with a nod. "Think of her, and those with her, as redoubtable additions to Mu's forces regardless of the faith, if you will, without whom he'd have been overwhelmed long ago. That way, at least you wouldn't keep entertaining such shady thoughts about either of them. Mu is your son, all said, and his siblings dearly miss him--do you not?" Lista asked this bit to the younger princes, who nodded eagerly, "--while this Dragoness... who knows what she might turn out to be for you in the future?"

"Your point, my lady, is eminently sound. Having a grandchild sure does much to mellow hearts and soften stands, I sense-"

Their hostess smiled, but even the other princess did not fail to see the firmness beneath. "I'd rather you not bring Uvais into this, dear, not in my presence. His father is being subjected to much the same situations as Mustafa... and the babe has no other direct relatives to turn to for comfort and support should the worst be destined to befall us. Believe it or not, Ves, your situation is no worse than ours; so if you claim to have any faith, prove it and cease fussing about things you can't do very much about. Okay?" She rose. "Now, I hope you've been entertained enough; I need to take a few minutes' nap. Peace be to you all."

For the duration of their walk back to the palace, it was the princes' turn to chat between themselves: this time concerning their respective trainings. Rashid was already testing himself with attempting to shoot apples off five wooden pegs, ranging from eighty, a hundred, a hundred-twenty, a hundred fifty and finally a hundred-eighty yards in order to determine the most effective range of the weapon. So far he'd done quite well from the first three distances; not so much from the last two.

On the other hand, as reluctant as Dastra appeared to, he nonetheless related that individually there was not much a spearman could have done outside having decent footwork and stamina as well keeping one's distance enough to skewer the enemy without being skewered himself... but that, conversely, a bunch of these guys would--in the heat of battle--make for any archers' dream.

"Sis Zalea spoke truly on that, seems like," he admitted sullenly. "Little wonder spears are preferred weapons for bumpkins; really ain't too much to keep in one's head. Good for stoppin' enemy horses together, but little else. Might wanna play with a mace next."

"Maces are no playthings, Das," Vestra reminded him. "Even then you might have to learn much the same aspects: footwork, agility, maintaining distance..."

Rashid raised his eyebrow at this. "You speak like you've trained with them before, Mom."

His mother smiled back. "But I had, dear."

"You..." Dastra cut in, equally amazed, and the boys exclaimed it together, "...you actually had?!"

Vestra nodded again. "I was a member of a powerhouse south of the Sarsan Strait, remember? Where I came from, the womanfolk too were trained for battle... on and off the field. Used to be, I trained alongside my brother Arys--'Prince of Estreon', he styles himself now. Ras's uncle."

"So why did you not help Dad with planning out battle moves?" Rashid inquired. "He often looks like he could use more help with it..."

"Battling and strategizing are not the same, son; and besides, he already has Mirani and the good vazir for that. Combined, they're about the best planners our household has to offer outside the active ranks... then all Urdin would have to do is lead them out, and let them do what they do best. Me? I see myself more as a matriarch now, what with being the Amir's prime consort. Not very seemly to have such a figure drenched in perspiration afield anymore, yes?"

"Lies," Dastra countered playfully. "Big Sis once had some o' her namesake flowers sent over from yer gardens, much as Mom freakin' hated that. Ya've got some skills yet, Ves... so rather than let 'em rust for some puny plants, why not use 'em to teach me play with that mace. Please?"

"And... you think Mira wouldn't hate me back for that? Why?"

"'Course not! She's gettin' way nicer to Sis nowadays than I've ever seen before; why would she not want me to be more adept in a field she knows I love most?"

"She'd still ask you if you're sane enough to even lift that weapon," Urdin's first consort objected, "and arguably in much less forbearing ways than mine just now. Talk to her first, Das, and in case that gets turned down... best not press. You know you're not that ready."

"Gotcha, Ves! Thanks!"

***

"No," Mirani intoned, arms crossed having scored a good bump on his head, when her son came in to ask about the switch to the mace. "As proud as I am to finally get that wench 'round to notice ya, Das... she has a point. If I let this one slip, how long 'fore I catch you with 'nother similar complaint? Heck, it's not even weeks since ya decided on that spear... one I thought you'd had long hours to ponder, 'specially after that treatment. Or are you hinting that I subject you to another? Perhaps one hour ain't quite sufficient."

"Mom, wait!" Dastra rushed to hug her by the waist, and refused to let go until she regarded him again, if coldly. "Just... Please, don't. Ya knew I hated 'em... so now I'm implorin' with something ya know I love. Please, just this one change!"

She slapped his hugging hands away, letting him fall on his backside with a yelp. "I've yet to hear your progress report on that chosen weapon from yer trainer--what's his name again, Alavis-someone? Wait 'til I do, then I'll decide. Fair 'nough?"

Teary-eyed, sobbing Dastra bit his own lower lip, but nodded. "I just-"

Before he could finish, to his surprise, his mother had lowered herself to his level, right there on the quiet corridor.

"It's not just Vessy," Mama Viper asserted. "I let ya scramble to that peasant Lady Lista's place some, oh, two hours ago. What happened there?"

The princeling merely closed his eyes and shook his head. "Feel like I know now why Big Sis rarely talked to ya last time..."

Owing to his own closed eyes, Dastra did not notice his lady mother's warm smile.

This kid too would need to be molded, Mama Viper thought. You'd need every darn-help ya can 'fore presuming to lay hands on a certain scum of a courtier. Play it right, you could regain a son in the process. Gently, now.

"She now stands with me come what may," Mira presently replied, "and I hope ya won't have to go through what she had. Tenfold dizzier than being clubbed by that freakin'- mace of yours, that I can promise. What happened?"

"Family talk," the kid mumbled.

"Not just to Lista?"

"Well... yes. Ves did talk of her own family too, mentioned her younger bro that she used to train with-"

"Clacking maces together day in and out under the blazin' sunlight, were they?"

"About right."

"That's why you wanna switch?"

"Anyway! Sis Zalea had a point, you see--there really isn't much one could do with a spear on his own. Walk ten paces in any direction, thrust with both hands, pivot, guard--that's about all I do everyday since I took on that weapon. My dumb 'instructor' Raidan won't even let me know why the heck I should keep doin' that!"

"Should he have?"

"Well..." Das sniffled, but thought it over, "perhaps... not."

"Why?"

"I think... he wants to have the moves be second nature to me, for starters. Heck, perhaps I should even ask for a blindfold next."

"Oh, that will come," Mira replied, patting her only son's head thrice--partly to nurse the bump--then sighed as she rose. "'Til then, persevere. And don't ever look down on your mentors so easily; your sister was so darn-close to get one, you're so lucky to still have yours no matter how pesky he might appear. Someday ya might even get to thank him. Is that understood?"

"...Yes, Mom."

"Still want me to hear that progress report 'fore ya switch?"

"Do it at yer own time, but I'm not gonna switch anytime soon. Promise."

"Get up, dry yer eyes. Your father better not see you crying."

The kid obliged.

(Part 3)

That day's dinner proved quite uneventful--the talks dominated by Yasnar's untimely passing; most recent developments in the other princes' respective trainings (wherein Vestra just nodded when Dastra related to her about Mira's flat-out 'No'); and a few budding questions about the Black Hand.

"In any case," Mirani was saying, "I don't advise going out to get any within that Black Hand list before a new vazir shall be put in place; it's that simply-convenient matter of coordination. How long might we expect you to really make up your mind on that, love?"

"Another week at most," Urdin reasoned. "Quite the pool to select from."

"Meantime," Princess Leia joined, "we might afford to sit back and wait for further news from the north."

"You could," her sister cut in. "Happy gossiping. I'd have to start snoopin' around soon 'nough, for willing urchins to help yours truly drag out whomever's been behind that filthy excuse of an enterprise... which, oh yeah, might be neater if you'd care to spare some blue-blooded names on the right spots to help tighten the noose somehow. We're sisters, heck if ya missed that; helpin' each other out's how we've tided many o' these storms 'til now."

Leia blinked. "That... could be an interesting proposition."

"'Course it is. I require actions, not compliments! Ya here to render 'em or what?!"

"Zal," her mother put in. "Graces."

This time the table was not banged.

"I'll think about it, Sis," Lei promised. "Not that I'm very sure many of my friends would be up for such a... populist issue to begin with."

"Spare the rosies, Pighead, there has to be some who'd nod. Scramble 'em up, send names 'fore I start. And they better be useful!"

"And you are going to start..?"

"What are ya, deaf? Not before the new vazir's with us! One week at the soonest? Sheesh!"

Lei chuckled, hands half-raised in appeasement. "My bad."

"Your Majesties, pardons..."

At this point, a servant walked rather quickly behind the diners' seats up to that of the Amir, where he whispered something into his ear. Urdin nodded, waved him away, and rose.

"Nasria, ladies and gentlemen," he paused for effect, "is ours still, Allah Be Praised... but our dear Mustafa has fallen ill and is coming our way posthaste. In twelve days' time at the swiftest, he shall be here. Idris is seeing to post-siege arrangements in the city as we speak, alongside its former overseer Wali Rahman. The Dragoness's northern bands, what remained of them, is also reported to have pulled back."

As he resumed his seat, correct and dignified, Vestra gasped, covering her mouth with both hands; Mirani momentarily closed her eyes; Zalea stared intently at her utensils, even as looks of avid surprise were firmly plastered on the other princes'--and Leia's--countenances.

"Akhi... is coming home? Twelve days..."

"Hope it'd be sooner. He's ill, alright... but to be carried here of all places, during this very winter..."

"At least he'd be with us again, right? What we've all been dreaming of..."

"He is coming back to us in the best state that might be hoped for, children," Vestra reminded them. "Remember, he's been through a months-long siege. Right now we must help him regain his health, calm his doubts..."

"Mu's presence is gonna make things here tenfold more sensitive, either way," Mira remarked, touching her own chin. "Not days have passed since Yasnar's internment, and now this. Looks like those Black-Handers are gonna have to wait, after all-"

"Lucky bustards," Zal mumbled. "What defeats luck, Mom?"

"More of the same, my little viper."