The first things that Nest-kor perceived when she woke up were a pounding headache, an emptiness in her stomach, and a man's arm gripping her tightly around her waist. Then her eyes focused on the jostling scene that greeted her. High mountain peaks, stony and ice covered, even in summer, rose to her left. A sheer drop was to her right. She was being carried on a horse over a narrow ledge high above a river that roared several hundred feet below them.

She realized that for the first time since she had been abducted, she could see her surroundings. She struggled to turn to face the man who held her.

"Akkra!" she cried. "It is you!"

"Yes," replied Akkra in a pleasant manner. "It is I. I trust you are feeling better?"

Nest-kor was not to be placated by Akkra's friendly tone. "You will pay for this, fiend! My father will have your head on a pike! You'll never get away with it."

The Prince ignored her rantings. "Are you feeling well enough to ride by yourself, Your Highness?" He reigned up the horses, bringing the small party to a halt. The ledge widened out to a small mesa about twenty feet wide. He would have preferred to find a better place to stop, but this particular part of the trail was the best he would find for miles.

She continued to threaten him with dire consequences as he helped her down off the horse. He was amused with the extraordinary number of diverse forms of punishment she could envision, until he realized that she had probably sent many individuals to those very fates. His gaze hardened and he looked away from her. Beneath her youth and beauty lay the soul of another arrogant and spoiled Lodaran noble.

Nest-kor was somewhat wobbly when she first got off the horse, and she had to hold on to Akkra for support. As soon as her legs were steady, she pulled away from him as though he were a leper. "Why have you abducted me?" she demanded.

Akkra adjusted the saddle on the spare mount. "I did not abduct you, Your Highness. I rescued you from two men who did abduct you."

"That's a lie!" she snapped angrily. "I heard your accomplice refer to you by name. I repeat, Mazidaran pig, why did you abduct me?"

Akkra sighed. "You don't seem to listen, do you? Very well, if you insist, I whisked you away because I couldn't stand being without your charming and civilized company. Now, Your Highness, we still have a long way to go, and you have cost me considerable time already."

Nest-kor stamped her foot angrily. "I refuse to go anywhere with you, Akkra. I demand that you take me back to Lodar immediately!"

Akkra climbed onto his horse and stared down at the Princess. Even in the rough peasant clothes, she looked incredibly attractive. Her petulant behavior only added a flush to her complexion that brought out the blue of her eyes and the golden sheen of her hair. For some strange reason, Akkra found her more attractive when she was angry with him than when she was pleasant. Then he recalled that he had never really seen her being pleasant to him.

"I really am sorry, Nest-kor, but I cannot do that. If you had been anyone else other than the Princess, I probably would have allowed your abductors to keep you, and good riddance to the lot of you. But you are the Princess, so I felt an overwhelming compulsion to protect you. The fact that someone has gone to the trouble of kidnapping you means that your life is not safe. Otherwise, I would gladly send you on your way back to Lodar."

"But why can't you take me back?" pleaded the Princess. "If you didn't abduct me, surely you could return me." She found herself wanting to believe him, yet still hesitant to do so.

Akkra shook his head. "No, I am needed up there." He pointed towards the distant snow-covered peaks. "When my mission is finished, then I shall gladly return you to Lodar."

"And when will that be?" she asked calmly, in spite of the lump that was beginning to form in her throat.

Akkra shrugged. "Perhaps a few days. Maybe a week or so. When I can return you is dependant on a lot of factors that I don't have control of. But all I can do, Your Highness, is assure you of your safety and that you will be returned unharmed to Lodar. I just can't say when."

Nest-kor stared at him in surprise. She had tried being polite, but the Mazidaran appeared impervious to gentle requests. Now she realized that he was like all the others. Unless she got angry, he would not act. "So much for treating him like an equal," she thought. "After all, he's only a Mazidaran."

Aloud, she said, "I demand that you take me back to Lodar this instant. If you can't take me yourself, send me back with the old man."

Akkra shook his head. "Sorry, Princess. Their lives are in danger, too. They can identify your abductors. If they go back to Lodar, they will probably be killed."

Nest-kor snorted in disbelief. "What you mean, Akkra, is that they are your accomplices. Do as you like, then, I am going to go back by myself."

"No, you're not. You're coming with me, like it or not." Akkra was losing what little patience he had with Nest-kor. "Now, get on your horse. We have several hours' travel time to make up for."

The old man and boy took the hint and started to mount their animals. The Princess, however, shook her head. "I won't get on," she announced.

The old man's eyes twinkled as he began to enjoy the play of wills between the Mazidaran and the Princess. The boy only stared in wonder that anyone would have the audacity to challenge the Imperial Princess.

"If you don't get on that horse, Nest-kor, I will tie you up like a sack of potatoes and throw you across the saddle."

The Princess stepped back in surprise, but still did not move towards the horse. No one had ever opposed her will before, and she was perplexed. What power could she assert over him?

"Don't tempt me, Princess," he warned. "I'm beginning to see why your first abductors had you gagged. Now be a nice girl and get onto the horse."

She started to refuse, but when he made motions of getting down, she hurriedly mounted her horse. Sullenly, she urged the horse to follow Akkra's. The old man and the boy started up the trail, pulling in front of Nest-kor's horse.

Akkra had started his horse up the steep, rocky path when Nest-kor, who had been holding her horse back, suddenly reigned her horse around and spurred it into a gallop down the mountain. Akkra turned in amazement as soon as he heard the clomping of the horse's hooves on the stones.

"Damn! She will kill herself!" he said to no one in particular. Then he was racing after her, his horse kicking up sparks as it flew down the treacherous slope. He was far more skilled on the steep path than Nest-kor, so he quickly caught up with her. He grabbed the horse's reigns out of her hand and pulled it to a stop.

"You damn fool!" he shouted at her. "Are you trying to kill yourself?" Without waiting for a reply, he jumped down from his horse and pulled her off of hers. She struggled, trying to hit him and scratch at his eyes. He slapped her soundly across the cheek. She stopped immediately, staring at him in total disbelief. No one had ever dared to lay a hand on her before in her life. She simply did not believe it could be done.

"I will have you killed for that," she told him.

Akkra ignored her threat. "I am sorry, Nest-kor, but if you don't cooperate with me, you will have to be treated like a prisoner." He pulled her wrists together and tied them securely with a leather thong. Then he lifted her back on her horse and tied the thong to the saddle horn. He grabbed hold of her horse's reigns and then climbed back onto his own mount. Leading her horse behind him, he rode back to where the old man and the boy were waiting for them.

He rode to the front of the group. As Nest-kor passed the two Lodarans, she looked at them, her eyes pleading for help. The old man and the boy only lowered their own eyes as she passed. Akkra might have the courage to defy her, but they certainly didn't.

Then, for the rest of the day, the four continued their silent journey into the peaks of the Zepores.

But though she was silent, Nest-kor secretly plotted a thousand different ways she was going to exact retribution from Prince Akkra of Mazidar.

"Master, how much further?" asked the old man. His voice was tired and broken from the cold air of the high passes. The old man's body was constantly shivering from exposure. Although their elevation was not that high, they were on the northern side of the mountains. Little sunlight penetrated these passes, and the wind blew viciously.

"Not much further, little father," he said. "Not much further." All four of them were shivering from the cold, though Akkra had tried to bundle his three companions as well as he could. There simply wasn't adequate clothing for this part of the journey.

Throughout the ordeal, Nest-kor had not said a word, though Akkra could tell that she had never experienced discomfort like this in her life. She, too, was shivering, and her rosy complexion was now pale and bluish.

Only the boy seemed impervious to the travails of the trip.

They had one last pass to go through, and they would be at their destination. The sun, however, was already behind the high ridges of Mount Pagelbeson, the mountain whose southeastern face they were climbing.

Mount Pagelbeson, while not one of the higher peaks of the Zepores, was a peak regarded with religious awe by many of the Tandarians. It was an extinct volcano whose center had dropped into the mountain, creating an enormous bowl shape almost eight miles across. Around this bowl, the sides of the volcano rose another two to three thousand feet. There was a natural break in the wall of the cone on the southeast side, several miles wide.

It was this break that they were climbing now.

Normally, Akkra would have made this climb hours ago, when the sun was directly overhead, and the winds were at their quietest. But the delays and slow pace required to accommodate his three companions had thrown Akkra's schedule off. He would have made camp, but once they started the last five miles of this trek, they were committed to completing it. Even with a fire, they would fall victims to the cold and dehydration.

Finally, when it seemed they could not go a step further, they crested the lip of the volcano's wall. The four of them stopped, staring in silence at the sight before them.

The floor of the volcano spread out before them in an enormous, curving bowl. This area was bathed in deep shadows now, but it was not without features. Across the entire plain, thousands and thousands of campfires burned like so many stars, plucked from the heavens and placed on the ground.

"That's where we're going," Akkra said quietly. He had been here several times since the tribes moved into this camp sight, and he was still impressed by the sight.

Nest-kor stared at the camp, also in surprise and amazement. However, she was less impressed with the grandeur of the sight than with the realization that these were the barbarian hordes that Prince Akkra had been warning the Emperor about. What was even more significant was the fact that he was coming here to meet with them! The suspicion began to form in her mind that the barbarians were not a threat to Mazidar, but were a very real threat to Lodar.

The Prince had lied!

They started slowly down the rise onto the plain of the mountain. They were almost halfway down the wall of the crater when Akkra pulled her horse close to his. Unsheathing his knife, he asked, "Would you prefer to ride into camp as a prisoner or as a princess?"

She glared at him icily. She made no attempt to hide the contempt in her voice. "Do you think I would willingly serve as an accomplice to your schemes, Mazidaran pig? Do you think an Imperial Princess could so easily betray her people? I am your prisoner. You have forced me to go this far. You will have to force me to go further."

Akkra looked at her in exasperation. Shaking his head, he slipped his knife back into its scabbard and urged his horse on.

As they approached the campsite, scores of riders raced out to meet them. Nest-kor, the old man, and the boy cringed in terror as hundreds of ferocious barbarians sped towards them at breakneck speed, their shouts ringing through the cold night air. The barbarians circled the small party, riding in ever tighter circles. Their war cries and the pounding of the horses hooves created a din that simply terrified the Princess.

Akkra did not slow his horse at all, but continued with his determined approach towards the center of the camp, still several miles distant. If he was intimidated or impressed by the demonstration, he showed neither emotion.

Finally, the circling, shouting barbarians broke, as another group of the horrible mountain people rode towards Akkra and his party. This group also seemed intent on riding at a full gallop, except they did not start to circle the foursome. Instead, they rode right up to Akkra, stopping their horses only when a collision of the animals seemed inevitable. Their horses reared up on their hind legs as the riders all shouted a salute to the Prince in a language Nest-kor did not recognize. Akkra shouted a greeting in the same tongue. The barbarians then formed an escort and the entire band rode slowly into the camp.

As they rode past tent after tent, hundreds of people would come out to stare at the passing group. When they saw Akkra, they would raise a cry of greeting, waving enthusiastically. Akkra waved back at them, but after a while, he stopped. There were just too many people.

Eventually, they arrived before a huge tent. Unlike the hide tents of the barbarians, this tent was obviously of Tandarian manufacture.

Of Mazidaran manufacture, thought Nest-kor bitterly. More evidence of Akkra's complicity in the barbarian invasion.

The old man and the boy dismounted from their horses. They looked confused and frightened. Akkra spoke quietly with them for a moment, and their looks of concern faded. Several of the barbarians led them off to a smaller tent near the large one. As they departed, Nest-kor felt alone for the first time. Even though they had not helped her, they were her people. They had been unable to protect her, but with their absence, Nest-kor felt particularly vulnerable.

Akkra jumped down from his horse, and came over to Nest-kor. He helped her down, then he untied the thongs that still bound her wrists. Ugly welts showed where the ties had cut off the circulation in her wrists. She rubbed her wrists, holding back a small cry of distress as the blood rushed back into her hands.

Most of the barbarians who had ridden into camp with them now departed, presumably back to their own tents. A few remained, and these now dismounted also, waiting expectantly for the Mazidaran. Young boys hurriedly looked after the horses, leading them to a corral in back of the tent.

Akkra gestured for Nest-kor to head for the tent. When she refused, he grasped her firmly by the arm and none-too-gently guided her in the appropriate direction.

They were still a few paces from the tent when the entrance flap opened up. Several young women emerged, converging on the Prince. Nest-kor noticed that one of them in particular was quite attractive. This one walked slowly up to Akkra, looked up at his face, then carefully tilted back her head waiting for him to kiss her. He did so, obviously with much pleasure.

Several of the barbarian observers made humorous comments, the meaning of which Nest-kor only could guess. Perhaps they found it amusing; she found it repulsive. How could he even approach one of these unbathed barbarian wenches, let alone kiss her!

Akkra spoke softly to the woman, and she and her two companions looked over in Nest-kor's direction. The two companions giggled like children, but the good-looking one made no comment, but only stared icily. Then she seemed to shrug, and a partial smile came to her lips. She said something to Akkra, who laughed in return.

Akkra gently pushed Nest-kor towards the tent flap. "Go inside, Your Highness. Noo, Bogii, and Aurie will take care of you. I will check on you later."

She stared at him in desperation, suddenly realizing that she did not want him out of her sight. As much as she had hated him only moments before, as much as she had been repulsed by his passionate embrace of the barbarian woman, she did fear being without his protection. Enemy though he were, at least she could communicate with him.

However, he ignored her pleading look. Once he had turned her over to the three barbarian women, he seemed totally unconcerned about her. He hurried over to the knot of barbarian leaders who waited patiently for him.

Nest-kor watched him walk away, and the sinking feeling of desperation that was beginning to overwhelm her was transformed into anger. She wanted to chase after him and pound him with her fists. She could even see herself stabbing him violently with a knife, so strong was her hatred.

Then the horror of that thought hit her, and she quickly put it out of her mind.

The three tribeswomen gently pushed her into the tent. They laughed and giggled all the time, though what they found so amusing, Nest-kor could only guess. She considered putting up a resistance, but she finally saw how hopeless her situation was. She allowed herself to be led into the tent.

The inside of the tent was a pleasant contrast to the rough crudeness of the barbarian camp. Here could be found all the luxuries of Tandaria: food, wine, finely made furniture, carved rosewood partitions separating various areas of the tent. Pillows and divans were strategically placed to invite lounging.

Looking at them, Nest-kor felt the weariness in her body. She was sore from her long ride and she had not eaten well for the past two days. Pulling away from her guardians, she went over to one of the divans and lay down on it. She sighed as she allowed her body to relax for the first time in days.

"Lady want bath?" asked Aurie, the one whom the Prince had kissed.

Nest-kor looked up in surprise. "You speak Lodaran?" she asked.

Aurie nodded. "No good Lodaran," she confessed. "Wizard Prince, he teach. He teach good. I no good."

Nest-kor was relieved that she had someone to communicate with. "You speak very well. What was your name?"

"You thank," said Aurie, blushing wildly. "I Aurie. You Princess Nest-kor?"

Nest-kor nodded. "Yes, I am the Princess of Lodar."

"Why you here? You go on trip too?"

The Princess shook her head. "I am here against my will, Aurie. I was abducted. Prince Akkra has made me a prisoner. You must help me." Seeing the blank look on Aurie's face, Nest-kor tried to speak more slowly. "Prince Akkra is hurting me, Aurie. He won't let me go home. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Aurie was perplexed. "No understand. Wizard Prince no hurt anyone." She decided to ignore any information she could not understand. "You want bath?" she repeated.

Nest-kor was about to plead for help again, but decided not to. She had to learn more about Aurie's relationship with Akkra before she could expect the barbarian wench to help her. Judging from that kiss, they were certainly more than casual acquaintances. The fact that Aurie and her companions appeared to be permanent residents of the Prince's tent did not bode well either. She found herself feeling very annoyed that the Prince had a mistress.

Or a wife.

The thought that Aurie might be the wife of the Prince shocked Nest-kor. It wasn't that she was prejudiced against the mountain people. But the cultures of Tandaria, even Mazidar, were so far superior to the rough life of the barbarian tribes that there could be no common ground between the Prince and this woman.

No, it had to be a sexual liaison only. That the Princess could understand. Her revulsion for the Prince welled up in her once more. It was just what she would expect! Akkra probably had a mistress in every camp!

"You want bath?" Aurie was persistent.

And pretty, Nest-kor decided, nodding her assent. As she watched Aurie and Noo race off to make preparations for the bath, she examined the tent, looking for possible avenues of escape. She noticed right away that Bogii remained close by her side at all times. Her prisoner status, despite Aurie's feigned confusion, was readily apparent to Nest-kor. Though she was a prisoner, however, Bogii did nothing to stop her from exploring the tent.

The center of the tent was dominated by an open pit fire, whose warm flames were a welcome respite against the bitter cold air of the high altitude. The smoke of the fire was caught by a large metal cone and pipe that carried it up through the top of the tent. It was an arrangement that Nest-kor had never seen before, but it made a lot of sense. In the Lodaran tents, the smoke from the fire simply escaped from an opening at the top.

Spread around the tent were the traditional large cushions used by the people of Tandaria for lounging. Nest-kor wondered if the barbarians had the same custom.

Further back from the fire were numerous small tables, containing trays of food and decanters of wine. The food still looked fresh, so whoever was going to eat hadn't done so yet or had just finished. Nest-kor started to nibble on a plate containing jellied vegetables. Once she took the first bite, she was overcome with hunger, and began eagerly to stuff food into her mouth.

Bogii laughed and tried to stop her. She said something to Nest-kor, but of course it was in the language of the barbarians, and Nest-kor did not understand a word. However, the meaning was clear. Wait until after the bath, and then you can eat.

Reluctantly, Nest-kor stopped gorging herself.

She continued her tour of the tent.

She started to approach the flap through which they had entered the tent. Bogii chided Nest-kor for going near the entrance, indicating that it was cold outside. Nest-kor nodded grimly. Of course, she thought to herself. And if she got out, she might escape.

Going on around the tent's circumference, she encountered a sleeping area, partitioned off by carved wooden screens. This area contained a comforatble-looking bed, a vanity table with a real mirror, and several wooden chests. Nest-kor gestured towards the furnishings. "Prince Akkra's?" she asked.

Bogii shook her head, but Nest-kor thought the barbarian simply misunderstood. Going on around, she came to another sleeping area, more simply furnished. This must be where Bogii and Noo sleep, she thought, seeing two cots in this area.

Past the sleeping area, she encountered another flap. This time Bogii allowed her to open the flap. It led into a kitchen area. Inside, several old women were busy preparing food. They looked up when Nest-kor looked in and smiled. They made some eating gestures, and smiled again when Nest-kor nodded. Apparently the time for evening meal had not yet come.

Just past the kitchen flap was another flap. This led to another attached tent in which was a large wooden tank. Aurie and Noo were in there, still preparing for the bath. When they saw Nest-kor, they chased her away. Evidently they wanted to surprise her.

Continuing on, she found an area that was dramatically different from the rest of the tent. This area contained only a small chest, a woven-hemp cot with a heavy pad and comforter on it, and a small table and chair. The austerity of the section was in marked contrast to the rest of the tent's opulence.

Nest-kor was puzzled. Who slept here? she wondered.

She didn't have a chance to find out, since Aurie called her back over to the flap she had been chased away from. Pulling Nest-kor by the hand, Aurie led her into the extension. A wooden tank dominated the area. They climbed up a set of steps where there was a platform level with the top of the tank. The water was evidently quite warm, since clouds of steam rose from its surface. Aurie indicated that Nest-kor should remove her clothes. When Nest-kor hesitated, Aurie laughed and stripped off her own clothing until she was quite naked. Noo and Bogii quickly followed suit. All three of them jumped into the water, their squeals of laughter piercing through the dense clouds of steam.

Nest-kor thought about using this opportunity to escape, but the hot water looked so inviting.

She pulled off the clothes she had been given and climbed into the water.

Within minutes, she was playfully splashing water and bouncing around the deep pool with the three other women as though she had known them all her life.

The three barbarians were fascinated with Nest-kor's hair and skin. They carefully examined her, making exclamations as they discussed each apparent difference between themselves and the Tandarian. At first Nest-kor was annoyed by their actions, then she decided that their interest was innocent. She even joined in the giggling over the differences in facial shape, hair color, and skin color along with the others.

After a while the water cooled down and Aurie indicated that they should get out. The four women climbed out of the tub into the chilly night air. The coldness, barely noticeable prior to the bath, hit Nest-kor like a hammer. By the time she reached the bottom of the wooden stairs, her teeth were chattering and her skin was turning blue.

Aurie passed out large cotton sheets of cloth which they used to towel themselves off with. Once she was dried off, Nest-kor did not notice the cold as much.

Aurie, still naked, led the group back into the main tent. Nest-kor wrapped the cloth around her, partially covering her body. When they re-entered the tent, she was glad she did, for it was now occupied by several tribal warriors.

Seeing the women, one of the warriors, quite young and good looking, got up and hurried over to Aurie. They spoke quietly but earnestly for several minutes. Aurie finally cut off the conversation with an abrupt gesture, and hurried over to the sleeping area that Nest-kor had assumed was Akkra's. The warrior hesitated, then started to follow. He was stopped by two of his companions who interceded. One of the companions, an older man, seemed to be pleading with the younger one.

Nest-kor could not understand anything they said. However, Noo and Bogii did understand, and they stood staring at the trio in horror. Evidently what the three men discussed was not good news.

The warriors, still growling among themselves, returned to the central part of the tent. The women hurriedly followed Aurie, glad to get out of the presence of the men.

Once inside the protection of the partitions, Nest-kor found Aurie sitting on the bed, her head hidden in her hands. Nest-kor sat down beside her and put her arm around her. Considering her own plight, she was surprised that she had developed enough concern about this barbarian woman to care that she was upset.

"Aurie, what is the matter?" she asked.

Aurie looked up, and embarassedly wiped away her tears. "I so confused, Highness. I no know what to do."

Nest-kor took part of her towel and wiped away the tear streaks on Aurie's face. Noo and Bogii sat down, watching attentively as Nest-kor comforted Aurie. They too were surprised by her actions, Bogii somewhat suspiciously, while Noo seemed happily surprised.

"Tell me what the problem is, Aurie. Maybe we can solve it together." Nest-kor doubted that she could really help the girl, but Aurie needed a friend. So did Nest-kor, and this seemed an excellent opportunity to establish a potential ally.

"That man. He called Sorga, Son of Thok. Thok most powerful chief of all tribes. They be of Clors Tribes. We be of Botts Tribes. Botts, Clors never like. Always fight, fight." She started to cry again. Nest-kor soothed her and urged her to go on.

"Sorga want me for marry. I no want. I want Wizard Prince."

At this point, both Noo and Bogii tried to tell something to Nest-kor, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. Aurie spoke sharply to them, and they became sullenly quiet.

"What were they saying, Aurie?" asked the Princess.

"No important what foolish girls say," replied Aurie. But Nest-kor was relentless. Finally Aurie gave in. "They say me no marry Wizard Prince. Me marry Wati-dar."

Nest-kor opened her eyes in surprise. "Who is Wati-dar?" she asked.

"He be of Botts Tribes, son of Balan-kazar, Chief of Botts. He, I want marry, but father make agreement with Wizard Prince. I, Prince marry."

Nest-kor was shocked. "You mean Akkra is going to force you to marry him? And you don't love him?"

Aurie looked confused, and nodded hesitantly. Noo and Bogii probably did not understand anything that was said, but that did not prevent them from vigorously indicating their agreement. Evidently they understood enough of the Tandarian dialects to follow the gist of the conversation. And it was evident that they did not want their mistress marrying the Prince.

Nest-kor continued to comfort the mountain girl, promising her that she would not have to marry the Prince. She even half believed that she might be able to help Aurie, though she could not think of what power or control she might exert over Akkra. Certainly very little as long as she was a captive. But if Nest-kor could escape, then she might be able to help Aurie.

Subtly, as much as the language barrier permitted, she tried to plant the idea in Aurie's mind that releasing Nest-kor could directly benefit Aurie. At first Aurie resisted any thoughts of helping Nest-kor. Nest-kor decided that Akkra had a strange hold over these people, having convinced them that he had mysterious powers. Aurie shared this fear mixed with awe that the entire camp had for the Prince.

Nest-kor had to convince Aurie that the Prince was simply a normal man, with no more magical tendencies than any other man.

Then she remembered how he had appeared out of thin air in her garden. She had thought that he had fallen out of the tree, but how did he get into the tree? She knew that his tale that she had invoked his presence was so much buffalo dung. On the other hand, suppose he were a wizard?

No, she had to stop thinking like that! She was becoming as simple minded as these barbarians. Akkra was simply a normal man, a little more conceited than most, but nothing more. She had to find a way to prove that to Aurie.

Aurie seemed to recover from her bout of depression. She then chided Bogii and Noo for standing around doing nothing. The young ladies sprang to their assigned tasks, opening the trunks and removing several sets of fine garments. Nest-kor stared at the clothes in surprise. This was surely not barbarian attire! she thought. The clothes were the very latest fashions of Lodar, as worn by some of the most wealthy noblewomen in the city.

Where had these barbarians gotten clothes like that?

The answer was obvious. Akkra had bought them for his mistress and her maids.

The three women started to help Nest-kor with her toilet. They brushed her hair dry and assisted her with some of the vials of makeup they had -- more luxuries from Lodar, Nest-kor decided. Finally they selected one of the outfits and held it up for Nest-kor's approval. It consisted of a red and gold salvar and a red halter. Gold chains and teardrop pearls rimmed the upper edge of the halter. Pearls were sewn into the design of the salvar. A gold belt, encrusted with rubies and pearls fit around her waist. And a gold hairnet, adorned with pearls, fit snugly over her head.

They had Nest-kor stand up and turn around for their evaluation. They seemed pleased with the results.

For her part, Nest-kor was surprised at the amount of jewelry Akkra had given the barbarian women. While this was only a fraction of her own collection, it was more than she ever expected to see amongst these people.

Aurie and the two maids then dressed themselves. Aurie's apparel was similar to Nest-kor's, except it was a dark brown color. Against the dark brown, the pearls acquired an earthy sheen. They almost appeared to pulse with a life of their own.

The two maids were more modestly attired, Noo in a green salvar-kameeze, and Mogii in a blue salvar-kameeze. While their jewelry was less conspicuous than Aurie's or Nest-kor's, still they sported a considerable amount.

It was no wonder that Aurie's father wanted her to marry the Prince. If this was a sample of the potential wealth he could acquire, he could become a king in his own right.

Aurie checked the four of them over one last time, decided that everything was in order, and stepped towards the wooden screen. As she reached for it, a loud gong chimed, announcing to the occupants of the tent that the women were about to join them.

She pulled open the partition, and the four women stepped out. Nest-kor glanced rapidly around the tent. It was filled with dozens and dozens of barbarian warriors. About twenty of them were lying around the central fire, while the rest stood outside the perimeter of the eating area.

Finally her glance rested on one individual. Dak Akkra. He caught her eye and smiled, gesturing for her and the others to come over and join them.

With a feeling of dread in her heart, Nest-kor started to walk slowly towards the empty spot Akkra indicated.

Nest-kor sat on one side of the Prince while Aurie sat on the other. Nest-kor resented the arrogance of the Prince. She was annoyed that he had the two women on either side of him. It made her feel degraded, as though she were put on the same level as Aurie. And yet, as she glanced from face to face around the fire, she was glad that she was near someone from her own culture.

And that thought surprised her. She had always regarded Mazidar as alien, the enemy, the people who had defeated her grandfather's dreams of Empire. The fact that she could now prefer the company of the Mazidaran to the barbarians was a remarkable shift in values for her.

Then she recalled that the rulers of Mazidar had originally been barbarians from these very tribes, sent into exile.

Despite his culture, despite his clothes, despite his appreciation for hot baths and soft pillows, Akkra was still a barbarian. Not just a barbarian, she reminded herself, but the leader of all these barbarians. He had accomplished what had not been accomplished in a thousand years. He had united the factious tribes of the Zepores into one nation.

How he had accomplished that miracle, Nest-kor did not know. Lying there beside him, in this circle of barbarian leaders, she began to change her view of Akkra. In Lodar, and even on the trek up into the mountains, she had regarded him as a sissified dandy, who would rather romp in bed than handle a sword. But now she began to wonder. Would these terrible men follow someone like that?

Mentally, she shook her head. No, they would not. They would only follow someone they respected or feared. But why would they fear someone so young? What power did he have that would make these terrible barbarians yield to him?

Young boys and girls brought in trays of food from the kitchen. The dishes included all the traditional favorites of the mountain people: steaming hot bowls of curries, made with goat meat instead of the traditional lamb meat, platefuls of spiced rice pilau, roasted chicken, heavy oven-baked unleavened bread. The children offered each of their delights to the tribal leaders.

Nest-kor noticed that there were enough children doing the serving that no one was served last. She and Aurie were served by Noo and Bogii, who insisted on taking the trays from the children.

Nest-kor, still hungry despite her earlier attempt as gorging herself, found the food delicious, though not as spicy as the food of Tandaria. Probably the mountain people didn't have access to all the spices one could find in the river valleys. Yet despite its comparative blandness, the food was good. So good that she beckoned Bogii to get her more to eat.

Akkra commented to her that she seemed really hungry. She glared haughtily at him, but said nothing. She had decided that as long as he kept her a prisoner, she was not going to be civil with him.

Akkra shrugged and turned his attention to Aurie.

Nest-kor felt her anger mounting. It was one thing for her to ignore him. It was quite another for him to ignore her! Yet despite her anger, she would not give in and talk to him. Instead, she tried to listen to what he and Aurie spoke about.

Unfortunately, they spoke in one of the mountain dialects, and she could not understand a word.

She turned her attention to the other people around the fire, most of whom were finished with their eating and were pulling out hukkas to smoke and engaging in polite after-dinner conversation with their neighbors.

All except one.

He was the one called Sorga, the son of the Chief of the Thoks. He spoke with no one, but stared across the circle to where Akkra lay talking with Aurie.

The look he had on his face was one of bitter hatred.

Nest-kor shifted her glance slowly from one side of the fire to the other, first at Sorga, then at Akkra and Aurie. A plan began to formulate in her mind, a plan that might enable her to get out of this camp. If only she spoke their language! she thought.

Sorga caught her staring at him, and it was her turn to be the recipient of that baneful look. She felt very uncomfortable, but she managed to smile at him, a smile that conveyed more than trust and friendship. Even if she could not speak their language, even barbarians could respond to certain kinds of communication!

Sorga was puzzled, and the hateful glare softened considerably. Instead, it was replaced with an angry scowling, as he averted his eyes from her and began to talk earnestly with a companion. He was uncomfortable with her attention. Nest-kor smiled to herself. Barbarian men were no different than the men of Lodar, she thought.

Nest-kor continued to look in his direction, and throughout the rest of the meal, his eyes kept darting in her direction. She made sure that she responded in kind, looking alternatively demur and innocent or saucy and provocative. By the time the servants had cleared away all of the dirty eating utensils, Nest-kor and Sorga had established a rapport that transcended language.

Surprisingly, Nest-kor did not have to force herself into seducing the barbarian. Contrary to many of her prior beliefs, Sorga was quite good looking, and though he might have a cruel personality, he certainly did not look cruel. In fact, his muscular features, broad shoulders, and lean body were all very attractive to the Princess. He wore a long, drooping mustache, traditional of the barbarians, but was otherwise clean shaven. His jet-black hair, bright blue eyes, and swarthy complexion lent him an air of exotic appeal.

There was a slight break as musicians came in and set up their instruments. Many of the dinner guests shifted positions and readjusted pillows to take advantage of the fire or the musicians. Nest-kor was pleased, but not surprised, that Sorga somehow managed to position himself next to her.

"Hello," said Nest-kor. Her voice was soft and quiet, in sharp contrast to the din of conversation and the raucous tuning of instruments from the musicians.

Sorga grunted something in return, which Nest-kor interpreted to be the barbarian equivalent of hello. She noticed his eyes riveted on her breasts, amply revealed by the low-cut halter. She dropped her shoulders forward slightly, increasing the cleavage of her bosom. Sorga almost fell forward, so fascinated was he with her exotic charms.

The musicians started playing. Nest-kor was surprised that they were playing traditional instruments from Tandaria: the tola drums, the dolsa, an accordian-bellowed keyboard, the two-stringed chitarii, the ten-stringed satar, and others. Even the songs they started playing were strongly influenced by Tandarian melodies, although the rhythms were probably unique to the mountian culture.

The barbarian chieftians began to clap in time with the music as the lead drummer began to sing his song.

Nest-kor inched her hand across the pillow it rested on until she could lightly touch Sorga's hand. He looked down in surprise, but did not move his hand away. Their eyes met and locked on each other, his hungry and greedy, hers determined and challenging. The music picked up the tempo of its beat as the musicians sang the main refrain of the song.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nest-kor saw that Akkra had noticed her and Sorga. She was sure that he could not see her hand on Sorga's, but he could see the attention that Sorga was paying to her. She turned her head so that her hair hid her face from Akkra's view. Smiling at Sorga, she whispered loud enough only for him to hear, "Akkra is going to kill you."

Sorga shook his head to indicate his lack of comprehension. Nest-kor reverted to crude hand signals. "Akkra," she said, then put a finger across her throat, finally pointing at Sorga. His eyes initially widened as he understood what she was saying, then narrowed. He glanced over at his enemy, as if to challenge him to do anything.

Nest-kor inched her body closer to Sorga's, close enough so that when she turned to listen to the musicians, her hair brushed against his arm. The gesture emboldened Sorga. He put his arm around Nest-kor and pulled her close to him. Several of those sitting near him, surprised by the abruptness of the action, began to joke and make lewd remarks of encouragement. Nest-kor showed no resistance, but on the contrary, seemed quite anxious and willing to respond to Sorga's advances.

He pulled her across his lap and began to kiss her with a force and passion that took Nest-kor's breath away. She had never been kissed like that before, and while she was only using Sorga as a pawn in her plan of escape, she found herself kissing him back with equal enthusiasm.

The crowd of observers started cheering Sorga on, the musicians now forgotten. The other warriors in the room began to turn their attention towards the embracing couple. Many in the room, understanding who the Princess was, were distressed at Sorga's actions, and began to shout for him to stop. Others were equally emphatic in their encouragement.

The embrace was abruptly broken when Akkra pulled Nest-kor out of Sorga's arms. He pushed the Princess behind him, where she fell painfully onto the floor of the tent. Akkra stood facing Sorga, who leaped to his feet. Most of their conversation was in the barbarian language, and Nest-kor only picked up bits and pieces of it from later recountings by Aurie. But she had no problem interpreting each event of the confrontation as it occurred.

"By the gods of Tandaria, what do you think you are doing?" demanded Akkra. "She is not your woman, Sorga. Keep you hands off her, or you will have me to answer to."

"Who are you to tell me who I can or cannot touch, lowlander pig? Go back to the woman you dishonor and leave me in peace with mine."

Akkra shook his head. "She is not yours, Sorga. Please, do not cause trouble."

"As Chohan is my witness," cried the young warrior, pulling out his sword, "I will cause you trouble!" His sword swung through the air and landed forcefully on Akkra's arm, cutting it deeply.

Akkra, seeing the sword coming towards him, tried to pull out his own sword, but was unable to do so. Only by falling backwards, tripping over Nest-kor, was he able to avoid getting his head cut off. He scrambled to his feet, still trying to get his sword out as Sorga pushed his way through the press of bodies, pillows, and overturned tables. One of the warriors handed Akkra a sword. A small clearing formed as the assembly of warriors pressed back towards the walls of the tent.

Several of the warrior chieftians were calling for the two combatants to stop, but the younger warriors wanted to see the outcome of this battle. Although Sorga was not the best swordsman in the mountain clans, he was a Clor; and everyone knew that the Clors were unbeatable. It would be a good test to see if the Wizard Prince had what it took to lead the tribes.

Akkra, his arm aching terribly from the deep cut, slowly circled Sorga. The young warrior smiled tauntingly at Akkra. The Prince instinctively knew the importance of this match. The tribes were testing him, seeing if he was worthy of leading them on the last segment of this adventure. He also knew that in this kind of fight, there were no rules. The fact that Sorga had scored a cut against Akkra before the Prince had his weapon ready did not count against Sorga, but against Akkra. A good warrior should always be ready for fight. Akkra had already lost a certain amount of credibility in the eyes of the mountain tribes.

Nest-kor watched the conflict explode literally right over her as Akkra went sprawling over her outstretched legs. She was sure she hadn't deliberately tripped him, but she couldn't tell. Her first reaction was one of extreme anger, at Akkra for pulling her roughly away from Sorga, and then at him for rudely pushing her out of the way. When she fell, she had landed on her backside, which was now sore from the fall. As she realized that Akkra and Sorga were actually about to fight, she forgot her pain in her rush to get out of the path of the two men.

She was only dimly aware of the importance of the fight. What she did become increasingly aware of was that if Akkra died, her life and safety would be forfeited. She suddenly realized that Akkra was her protector. Without him around, people like Sorga would be able to do what they wanted with her. And as she glanced hurriedly around the room, seeing the impassioned faces of the barbarians as they watched the fight, she understood that Sorga was probably the best of the lot.

When she started seducing Sorga, her plan had been to create animosity between the Prince and the warrior. She had hoped that she could then get Sorga to help resue her. She had not expected a fight to develop, and certainly not this quickly.

A clearing had developed around the two combatants, and Nest-kor was able to crawl to the edge of this clearing. She felt a soft hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Noo, who gestured for Nest-kor to get up and stay with her. The Princess did, relieved that someone she knew was close by.

Meanwhile, she could not take her eyes off the drama in the middle of the tent. Akkra's arm was now bleeding freely, and it would only be a matter of time before he lost too much blood to continue defending himself. Yet Sorga's attack had not been entirely successful, since he had cut Akkra's right arm. The Prince, however, was left-handed, so though the wound was probably painful, it did not prevent him from fighting.

As the two men circled slowly, watching each other for weaknesses and mistakes, neither overly aggressive in his attack, Nest-kor wondered what the Prince's chances of success were. His opponent was a barbarian, from one of the most cruel tribes in the Zepores. On the other hand, the Prince was nothing but a womanizing dandy, a braggart at best. Yet here he was, crossing swords with a man who was obviously stronger and huskier, probably more skilled, and certainly more used to killing.

She would not have been surprised to see the Mazidaran turn tail and run from the tent.

The fact that he didn't probably meant that he also realized he would not get far. If Sorga didn't kill him, someone else would. These barbarians seemed to enjoy combat, especially on a personal level. Even the chieftians who had tried to stop the fight initially were now caught up in the animal passion of the fight.

She wondered why Akkra didn't try to attack. Surely he must realize that his bleeding arm only made him more vulnerable. It was in his interest to get the fight over as quickly as possible. Yet all he did was stare intently at Sorga, as if that were enough to defeat the powerful young warrior.

Then a surprising thing happened, an event that brought a gasp of surprise from the crowd of on-lookers. Akkra, grim-faced up to this point, now smiled broadly and tossed his sword aside.

Even Sorga was taken back, and for the first few seconds did not know how to respond. However, his killer instincts soon took over, and he began to charge, the point of his sword aimed for Akkra's heart.

The point passed harmless through empty air, as Akkra adroitly side-stepped out of Sorga's way. As the heavier warrior raced past him, however, Akkra gave a short jab with his open-palmed hand in Sorga's ribs. Sorga cried out in surprise and turned around in confusion, looking for where Akkra had been.

The Prince was on the opposite side of the clearing, waiting calmly for Sorga to attack.

Nest-kor noticed something that perhaps the others hadn't. Akkra's bleeding arm was no longer bleeding as badly.

Sorga attacked again, this time swinging his sword in a deadly arch that would cut the Prince in two.

Again the Prince was not where Sorga expected him. He had dropped to the ground, somersaulting below the arc of the sword. As it passed over him, he kicked up his feet forcefully into Sorga's groin. The young warrior screamed in pain, dropping his sword to protect that vulnerable area. Akkra was on his feet in an instant, and as Sorga doubled over in pain, Akkra hit him on the back of the neck with a vicious chop. Sorga careened forward and lay quietly on the ground, unconscious of anything else.

The warriors stared in stunned silence at the fallen warrior. They had never seen anyone defeat a Clor with such ease, and particularly with no weapons. Truly the Mazidaran Prince was a Wizard!

Even Nest-kor began to change her mind about the Prince.

Akkra, however, was more concerned about Sorga than about the impressions he had made on the on-lookers. He went over to the young man and rolled him over. Lifting up his eyelids, he checked Sorga's eyes. Satisfied that the man was merely unconscious and not dead, he ordered some of the Clor clansmen to take him back to his tent.

Akkra ordered the musicians to pack up their instruments, then instructed everyone else to return to their own tents. He conferred briefly with about a dozen of the tribal chieftians as the remainder of the barbarians trooped reluctantly out of the tent.

Finally, the tent was empty of all but Akkra, Nest-kor, Aurie and the two maidservants.

Nest-kor went over to Akkra and put her hands around his neck. "Prince Akkra, you were magnificant!" she exclaimed, trying to give him a kiss.

The Prince pushed her roughly away from him. "You damn fool, what do you think you were doing? Don't you realize that up here among these people you are simply another unimportant female? Your power and position do not mean anything to these people. If you arouse a man like Sorga, he will take you and use you like he would any other woman. And when he has had his fill of you, his tribal honor will demand that he share you with his clansmen. And their tribal honor will require that they take you. Is that what you wanted, Your Highness?" The Prince waved his arms in frustration. "And by the gods of Tandaria, you pick the Clors! The Clors are the most bloodthirsty lot of all the mountain tribes, Nest-kor. If you are lucky, and your sexual prowess is enough to really impress Sorga, you might be sacrificed to Chohan right away. Otherwise, they will wait until you are bleeding so badly that not even the Clors will touch you, and then they will sacrifice you to Chohan!"

Nest-kor shrank back from the Prince's anger. "I didn't know, Akkra. I didn't want to cause any problems. I was just being friendly."

The Prince stared at her in disgust. "Just being friendly! You were coming on to him like the cheapest strumpet in the lowest brothel in Lodar, Nest-kor. Don't tell me that you didn't know what you were doing. Do you think this is a vacation where you can meet new and interesting people? I should have left you in that damn trunk with your Lodaran noblemen." He turned towards Aurie and the two women. Even they were afraid of his wrath. "Get her ready for bed," he ordered. "I'll take care of her in the morning."

Akkra turned and walked out of the tent, leaving the four women to stand in silence staring at each other. Finally, Aurie said quietly, "Come, Princess, we sleep."

Aurie took her over to the sleeping area where they had changed clothes after the bath. They removed all of the garments, which Noo and Bogii carefully restored in cedar trunks. They then produced traditional clothes worn by the barbarians. They helped Nest-kor with a long cotton undergarment that fit her like a dress or gown. Over this, she wore a heavy woolen dress that had dull, subdued patterns in it. A belt cinched her waist. She was given fur-lined boots and a fur cap.

Nest-kor learned later that only the wealthier of the barbarian women could afford the cotton undergarment. Apparently, Akkra had given instructions that Nest-kor was to be treated with care, and despite the Prince's anger at Nest-kor, Aurie was continuing to follow those orders.

Nest-kor was surprised when Aurie indicated that she and Nest-kor were to share the same bed. Nest-kor had never slept with anyone else, and at first the idea repulsed her. She was about to protest, when she had second thoughts. After her escapade with Sorga, she did not think it a wise idea to cause any problems now. And she realized that with Sorga no longer a dependable ally, she was back to trying to get Aurie to help her.

She climbed into the bed and pulled the warm blankets over her. Aurie did likewise. Noo and Bogii put out all of the lamps and retired to another part of the tent.

The two women lay in the darkness, listening to the sundry sounds of the camp preparing for night. Nest-kor could hear metal utinsels being stacked and put away, dogs barking, a few distant chords of music, horses braying in the corral behind the tent.

"Aurie, will Prince Akkra come to you tonight?" asked Nest-kor.

Aurie turned in surprise. "You mean, come, make love?" she asked.

Nest-kor grunted yes.

"Wizard Prince no make love with me," she confided. "We stay in same tent so father no angry. When we at new home, we tell father no marry. Father very angry, maybe kill Aurie, kill Wizard Prince." She thought about that a moment, then added, "Try kill Wizard Prince. Maybe Wizard Prince kill father."

The two women lay in silence a few minutes. Then Aurie touched Nest-kor on the shoulder. "You no tell anyone, Princess?" she asked. "Noo, Bogii, they no know Prince and me no love. They might say something."

Nest-kor wondered how she would manage to convey such an idea to the two servants anyway, but she said, "No, Aurie, I'll keep our secret. Just between the two of us."

And for some reason that Nest-kor did not want to explore too deeply, she was somehow glad that the love affair between Akkra and Aurie was merely a sham.