Desert Jewel (Closed)

[lickquidsecksy]

Aboli walked through the halls of the palace toward the oil chamber. The smell of jasmine, and the sounds of chattering and giggling from his concubines echoed through the halls as he grew closer.

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/af/f5/0d/aff50d4be226e02661e6922a63a9fb67.jpg

Aboli was the lord of the Jamir region, a small principality on the southeast of the Nadjiri empire. His palace was modest by Nadjiri standards, but impressive enough for the traders coming in from Meridia, Xian, and Torosh. Most traders left his palace with far less coin in their pockets after passing through his city and the small region had grown prosperous as a result.

But today, there were no merchants, no traders, and no imperial delegations to entertain. Aboli only had a new palace guardian to meet with before he could finally cast aside his role as imperial lord and enjoy a plate of bahkti and spend time in his bathhouse with his concubines.

As he walked past the entrance to his bathhouse and turned down the hallway leading to his conference chambers, he wondered to himself if the new palace guard would be effective, or just another distant relative to some useless but well-connected lord, trying to get a little bit closer to the imperial family.

Sighing, and preparing for what would likely be a long, boring conversation with a servant we would never speak with again, Aboli opened the curtains to his conference room and fixed a countenance of importance on his face in hopes of getting through this interview faster before stepping into the chamber.

"Greetings. I am Aboli Wokolu, the Nadjir of this land. Welcome to my home."

 

[haremfaery]

"A thousand blessings upon you, Nadjir Wokolu." This was not the guard Aboli was expecting.

The woman bowed deeply, a reed bending in the wind. She wore no armor, but her traveling clothes were sturdy, close-fitting, well-worn leather. Her hair was wrapped in a turban but strands of very dark auburn hair had escaped at her left temple. Her skin was the color of chai. Her features and coloring looked like those who dwelled in the mountains. Her eyes were probably green if one got close enough to see.

One each hip was a curved sword. A few pouches hung from her belt along with a dagger. She was tall for a woman but not nearly so tall as Aboli. But she had proved herself against much larger men. She was confident in her powers. As a sellsword, she had to be. She enjoyed the freedom it afforded her.

"I am Esana and I am honored to be in your service." Her name was a description more than a name since it meant One Who Safeguards, but it served her well enough.

 

[lickquidsecksy]

The meeting chamber was open to one of the palace gardens and cooled by the harvest breeze. The smell of ripe dates drifted into the room and immediately lifted Aboli's spirits. When he saw the woman who'd been sent to him, he noted the weapons she carried.

He knew men who used twin swords, mercenaries and adventurers trying to get work.
He'd fought some in his younger days, a few in duels once he'd become a Nadjiri and a target for ambitious politics and royals. The only one that had been a legitimate threat wore them the way this woman wore hers.

If he had not been younger and stronger on that day, he would not be alive to see this one.

"Esana," he said, gesturing to a cushioned seat near his own. "Welcome to Jamir. I hope your journey was pleasant."

 

[haremfaery]

Esana folded herself gracefully onto the cushion but didn't relax into it. "This room has been the most pleasant thing I've experienced in many weeks. I finished a job in Torosh and heard the Najir of Jamir needed a bodyguard."

And a rather fine body it was. Broad of shoulder and slim of hip from what she could tell of his robes and the way he moved. Wokolu was older, but not as old as his white hair and beard might indicate. He was no pretentious, effete ruler who gained his position through the happy accident of birth. He had all the markings of a true warlord.

She had spent some time in taverns, listening mostly, to learn more about Wokolu and Jamir. She used her skills to get people--men mostly, talking about what she wanted to know while revealing little about herself. It was easy. Most men liked to talk about themselves. During her travels, she had discovered some things that might be of value to her new employer. And therefore, worth some gold for her.

 

[lickquidsecksy]

Aboli observed Esana with a relaxed caution gained from scanning countless battlefields while friends and relatives died. Sitting on the cushion she reminded him of a coiled snake. Casually taking in her body and poise, he wasn't sure if he was attracted to her despite this, or because of it.

It had been awhile since he'd spent time with a true adventurer. Most visitors were looking for handouts or promotions and were, at best, boring and at worst, insulting. He knew he was charmed by the fact that she was neither and pushed some of his more libidinous thoughts aside so that he could take in the whole of her. Still, the thought of her taking in the whole of him flickered at the edges of his imagination.

"Thank you, the gardens are the pride of Jamir. As you know, the Nadjiphate is little more than a network of cities built around oases and the trade routes between them. Much of the 'empire' is sand.

"I do remember Torosh though it has been years since I've seen it. There was a cowpile of a tavern near the harbor that served the strongest honeywine I've ever had. I don't normally take to Meridian alcohol but that place changed my mind on the subject.

"It has been some time since I put these boots on the road," Aboli chuckled, easily falling into the role of the 'old soldier' rambling endlessly about his glory days. The very word nadji meant 'seasoned' and pontificating warlords were as much a part of the culture as bathhouses and curved swords. He'd told enough jokes about his own commanders, and heard enough about him from his own troops, to wear this persona like an old shirt.

Also, an old soldier could be forgiven for taking the full measure of a beautiful woman. Should his gaze linger, why that's just him playing a role.

 

[haremfaery]

Esana smiled and shifted her pack between her legs. She moved slowly and deliberately knowing that guards seen and unseen were watching for any move against their nadjir despite her oaths to protect him. As a sellsword, her loyalty went to the highest bidder. She would not have lived this long if she betrayed any of her temporary masters.

Her smile broadened as she pulled a sealed stonewear bottle our of her pack. "Toroshi honeywine." She set it as close to Wokolu as she dared. "I developed a taste for it at The Happy Sailor. It could be the same cowpile of a tavern where you discovered it. I would be honored to share it with the Nadjir." She sat back. "And while we drink, if the Nadjir would be so kind as to explain the situation that requires a special bodyguard, I would be most grateful."

Esana had heard rumors, but she preferred to learn as much as she could from her employer and putting all the pieces together herself.

 

[lickquidsecksy]

Aboli smiled, immediately recognizing the simple earthen jar. The Nadjiri empire was old and rightfully proud of it's artisans, but the simple life of adventure he enjoyed in his younger days taught him to appreciate simpler pleasures.

He would have liked to take the bottle to his lips and let the thick, warm liquid run down his throat, but this was a negotiation. Even if the bottle wasn't poison, which he highly doubted, appearing too eager would raise Esana's price.

Aboli kept a pair of silver cups nearby for drinking and carousing with his soldiers. The silver was old and slightly tarnished. The intricate etchings were mostly rubbed smooth and the cups were slightly dented from decades of toasts. If one didn't look to closely, they appeared to be made of common steel.

Taking the cups, he poured two helpings of the wine. As soon as the smell hit his nose, he wanted to fill them both the the brim, drink, and refill them again, but he remembered his station and poured modestly, offering one to Esana and saluting her, waiting for her to take the first sip.

His mouth impatiently watered while he observed ancient rules of etiquette and decorum, his woman was deliciously trying his patience. This time, when he smiled, it was genuine, showing rows of gleaming white teeth.

 

[haremfaery]

Esana's hand molded around the silver cup. And silver it was, she knew the special feel that old silver hand. There was a slipperiness to it that base metals did not possess. How many had drunk from this cup raising toasts to their najir? It told much about the man. He was not given to ostentation, he prized the history of his possessions, perhaps there was some sentimentality under the warlord facade to keep such old and dented cups when he could have hundreds of new ones made for his use.

She realized he was waiting for her to drink. She took a sip and savored it then licked her lower lip. It seemed sweet--until it burned. Not unlike herself, her informant had said. He was correct when he suggested the mead would please the najir.

She returned his smile with a genuine one of her own. Had they met in some tavern, she imagined she would have gotten slightly drunk with him while they traded stories of their adventures. She might even have taken him to bed and given him several more stories to tell to his comrades.

 

[lickquidsecksy]

Aboli turned his cup up and finished it in three large gulps. Momentarily forgetting how thick honeywine was, he had to down it all to keep from choking as it slithered slowly down his throat.

Damn he missed that sweet sting. He liked Nadjiri wines well enough, but they were prone to pretension, each tasting like whatever had been popular last season, but less so. He also despised the dainty crystal glasses that other lords used to show off their wealth. He had his own of course, Jamiri had countless gem-cutters and glass-blowers among it's artisans.

The region wasn't famous for it, but there were a few well-known craftsmen among his subjects. One of the reasons he didn't use the glasses often was to avoid embarrassing some visiting noble or general with a piece they could not possibly afford.

"So, should we begin the tour with the barracks? I couldn't help but notice your swords. It must take a lot of skill to use one in each hand. Few of my soldiers could manage."

Actually none of them could, but Aboli was in the mood for some sport and there were a few guards that were long overdue a lesson.

 

[haremfaery]

Esana took another sip of the mead and set her cup down. She refused to down it as Wokolu had. She wanted her wits about her. And if Wokolu's were a bit muzzy from the drink, so much the better.

"As the Najir wishes." It would be good to know who she'd be working with. And bunking with. And to make enough of an impression so she wouldn't have any problems. Because she was a woman, she was frequently underestimated, which was a benefit when she fought against her foes, but not when she fought alongside her allies.

"I began training at a young age. But all fighters do. I showed aptitude for dual wielding." As well as fire magic. But that was something she used when all else failed. The surprise itself could sometimes end a fight.

They walked through the gardens and onto a path that led to something more utilitarian: a training area flanked by the guards' barracks. The men they passed stopped what they were doing to bow or salute. She felt their eyes on her, some curious, some hostile, some seemed not to care at all that their king was walking with an armed woman.