Chapter 17 #2
"Great Khan." His voice carried. "I have heard much of the archery of the Steppes. Would you honour us with a demonstration? Perhaps we might make it interesting—a small competition between future brothers."
The crowd murmured appreciatively. A challenge between princes was always entertaining.
Ragnar inclined his head. "What stakes does the Okpalaeze propose?"
Somadina's smile widened. "The winner may claim an object of his choice from the most beautiful woman in attendance."
Every eye in the pavilion turned to Azul.
She paused, a grape halfway to her lips. She tried not to frown at the attention. Was he trying to get her killed? Her reputation was awful because of him, and this wasn’t helping.
Ragnar's eyes met hers across the field. He seemed amused at her expression; it made her want to pout, but that was beneath her.
"Acceptable," Ragnar said.
The crowd erupted in excitement.
Azul leaned back on her cushions and reached for another cake.
"Akwaugo, if the Okpalaeze wins, won’t we be in trouble?" Nkiru asked, suddenly catching on.
Azul sighed. "People will talk themselves to death. It’s best if the Great Khan wins, so root for him."
The first round.
Standard target, fifty paces.
Somadina stepped up. His form was perfect. He had been through numerous tutors' rigorous lessons and so was an exceptional archer. The arrow flew.
Bullseye.
The crowd applauded. Somadina acknowledged it with a modest bow.
Ragnar took his position. He drew the arrow smoothly, held for half a breath, and released.
The arrow struck Somadina's arrow, splitting it down the middle.
There was a beat of silence. Then an uproar.
"What—" Nkiru gasped.
Azul smiled. It was Somadina’s folly to think he could beat a man of the Steppes in archery of all things. He should’ve suggested fencing.
Somadina's expression flickered; he said something to his attendants that made them scramble for fresh arrows.
And just like that, the game was on, round after round, still and moving targets. Each and every time, Somadina was perfect, but each and every time, he still lost.
It pleased Azul greatly to see the ugly look on his face.
By the last round, they were on horseback, rushing past the targets at a set distance.
Somadina was fast. His arrows flew in quick succession, each finding its mark. Three bullseyes in the time it took most men to shoot one.
His horse slowed, and he turned to Ragnar with a smile that suggested victory.
Ragnar nocked his first arrow. Released. The first target's centre exploded.
Second arrow, faster than the eye could follow. The second target's arrow split.
The third arrow was released before the second had landed. The third target's arrow shattered.
The display was beyond what most men could comprehend; both men were great, but one was clearly better.
Ragnar lowered his bow and rode towards the royal pavilion.
Towards Azul.
He stopped before her, dismounting, one knee dropping to the ground, his eyes fixed on her face.
"Khatun." His voice was low, meant only for her. "I come to claim my prize, if you're willing."
"And what prize would that be, Great Khan?" She chided.
He reached up and tapped his mask.
The crowd leaned forward. Nkiru made a small, squealing sound.
Azul propped herself on her arms. Leaning up, her lips brushed the ivory where it covered his cheek. "I bless you with many more victories, Great Khan; you will not lose," she said, beaming.
When she relaxed her body, settling back into her cushions, Ragnar's eyes had gone dark.
He rose, turning to the crowd, raising his bow in acknowledgement. The laughter swelled—good-natured and amused by the romance of it all. A Khan winning a kiss from a beautiful woman. It was the kind of story bards would tell.
Only Somadina wasn't laughing.
Azul caught his gaze; his jaw was tight, and his hands clenched his reins.
Behind him, Chukwuemeka rode up to him, leaning close to murmur something. Azul couldn't hear the words, but she saw Somadina's posture shift slightly. His tension eased just a fraction.
This was what they wanted, wasn’t it? Why did he seem so angry? She wished to scoff in his face but was afraid if her father came anywhere near her, she’d try to kill him.
So instead, Azul selected another grape.
The hunt was announced later that afternoon. Women who could ride well would join; those who couldn't would remain behind.
Iyom found Azul before the princess could stuff another pastry in her mouth.
"Surely the Akwaugo will ride with us? A woman of her… reputation must have many skills."
Azul looked up from her food. Iyom sat mounted on a beautiful grey mare, her expression one of false solicitude.
"I don't ride," Azul said flatly.
Iyom's eyebrows rose. "You don't? But surely—"
"I don't." Azul smiled pleasantly. "I'll cheer for you from here."
Iyom's smile tightened. "How disappointing. I had hoped to see more of the famous Akwaugo's talents."
"Perhaps another time." Azul waved her fingers in dismissal.
Iyom wheeled her horse and trotted away, her displeasure visible in every line of her spine.
Nkiru leaned close. "Was that wise, Akwaugo?"
"Giving her what she wants would have been unwise. She wanted me on a horse; I fear it is too easy for me to die from falling off one. I’d rather not."
Ragnar approached from the edge of her vision on foot, his black stallion trailing behind him.
"Khatun." He stopped before her. "You don't ride?"
"I don't."
He paused, and she could tell what he was thinking. How could she survive in the Steppes without learning?
"Would you like to?"
Azul looked at the horse. It was large, scary and very far from the ground.
"No."
He’d have to figure out her transport without her sitting on one of those.
Ragnar's eyes crinkled slightly.
I’m glad you’re amused. She didn’t think her fears were that entertaining.
"It's easier than it looks."
"For someone who grew up on the Steppes, perhaps. For someone who grew up walking, less so."
"You walked everywhere?"
"I have feet." She raised a brow. "And I fear they work."
He paused before speaking once more, "Ride with me. I'll walk beside you."
"I really don’t think—"
"It’s easier to talk when people aren’t watching us."
His intention finally dawned on her.
"You want to talk?"
He nodded. "But you'll have a better view from up there, and I'd rather you didn't strain your delicate constitution by walking."
"Delicate—" She stopped. "Are you mocking me?"
"Absolutely not, Khatun." But his eyes were definitely laughing. "Clearly you do more than eat and sleep; you are definitely very capable of physical activity."
Nkiru, watching this exchange, looked like she wasn't sure whether to be horrified or delighted.
Azul made her decision. "Fine. But if I fall, you must send me two hundred gold coins!"
"That seems fair."
She choked, aghast.
Why did he agree so easily? Did he have any idea how expensive that was?
Maybe my chi has finally listened to me and sent me a money tree. Suddenly she was very enthusiastic and ready to ride out.
He helped her mount—his hands at her waist, lifting her effortlessly onto the stallion. The horse shifted beneath her, and she grabbed desperately at the mane.
"Don't pull," Ragnar said. "He's well-trained. Just sit."
She nodded shakily, cursing her greed. She didn’t want to fall, even if two hundred gold coins sounded utterly tempting.
Ragnar took the reins and began walking, leading them towards the tree line where the other riders were gathering.
"You're really doing this," Azul said, eyes darting around at the shocked faces of the party they were leaving behind. "Walking like a servant."
"It’s nice to speak to you without fifty people listening." He glanced up at her. "Khatun?"
Azul looked away, cursing his bloodline. He was charming; she hated it.
Ragnar's eyes crinkled again.
"For a man who nearly killed me a few times, you’re being awfully considerate. Have you really been smitten by me? Was it that easy?"
He laughed, a robust sound, making the others a few feet away turn to look at them. "Khatun, have mercy on me. Some questions really shouldn’t be asked so casually. Aren’t you afraid?"
Her heart skipped a beat. "Afraid of what?"
"Ah… truly too much," he said under his breath.
Azul struggled to understand his words, and he moved on quickly, not leaving her room to probe.
"My Lord, why won’t you let me see your face?" After all, kissing a mask was a strange thing to do.
"Because I don’t want you to."
Azul choked on her words. What kind of answer was that? It felt too unsatisfactory.
"Your sister," Ragnar interrupted her next words. "The one who married Somadina. What's she like?"
"Chidinma?" Azul's voice flattened. "The little snake is rather ambitious and clever. She adapts well to power and is willing to do whatever our father tells her."
"And your father?"
She looked down at him. "Why do you want to know?"
"I'm marrying you. I should know what I'm walking into."
"You're walking into a viper's nest either way."
"Then tell me which snakes to watch for."
She was quiet for a moment. "You should watch out for Iyom; her family is quite powerful, though I’m not sure how long that will last. You should keep an eye on Somadina; he wishes you dead."
Ragnar's grip on the reins tightened slightly, but he said nothing.
"They dragged me into this game and thought I would simply meander without sight. I am not sure why the Ugoeze wants me dead, but I know of the Iyom. She wants me gone because I hurt her son."
"Quite a few people seem to want you dead."
"That is the unfortunate reality of my circumstance."
"Khatun, have you heard of the Divine Right of Kings?"
Azul stiffened; such a concept she understood from old tales in her world, but she did not expect to hear it here. Ragnar glanced up at her, as if expecting her to reply. “A king is one ordained by the gods, and their lineage is secured by said blessing.”
Ragnar took his time replying, and she wondered if her words displeased him.