Bradley P. Beaulieu - The Winds of Khalakovo

BRADLEY P. BEAULIEU

Night Shade Books

San Francisco

The Winds of Khalakovo 2011 by Bradley P. Beaulieu

This edition of The Winds of Khalakovo

2011 by Night Shade Books

Cover art by Adam Paquette

Cover design by Rebecca Silvers

Maps by William McAusland

Author photo by Joanne M. Beaulieu

Edited by Ross E. Lockhart

All rights reserved

First Edition

Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-59780-218-5

E-ISBN: 978-1-59780-306-9

Night Shade Books

Please visit us on the web at

http://www.nightshadebooks.com

For Joanne, who was with me every step of the way.

Thank you, dear friend, my lovely wife. I couldnt have done it without you.

Dramatis Person

Prince Nikandr Iaroslov Khalakovo

- youngest son of the Duke and Duchess of Khalakovo.

Princess Atiana Radieva Vostroma

- daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Vostroma.

Nikandrs betrothed. Rehada Ulan al Shineshka

- an Aramahn woman. Nikandrs lover in Volgorod.

The Duchy of Khalakovo

The Duke and Duchess

Duke Iaros Aleksov Khalakovo

Duchess Saphia Mishkeva Khalakovo

Their children

Prince Ranos Iaroslov Khalakovo eldest son.

Princess Victania Saphieva Khalakovo only daughter, middle child.

Others

Yvanna Antoneva Khalakovo Ranoss wife.

Gravlos Antinov a shipwright. Oversaw the design and construction of the Gorovna.

Isaak Ylafslov the seneschal of Palotza Radiskoye.

The Duchy of Vostroma

The Duke and Duchess

Duke Zhabyn Olegov Vostroma

Duchess Radia Anastasiyeva Vostroma

Their children

Prince Borund Zhabynov Vostroma eldest child and only son.

Princess Mileva Radieva Vostroma daughter, sister to Atiana.

Princess Ishkyna Radieva Vostroma daughter, sister to Atiana.

Others

Katerina Vostroma a Matra of Vostroma Zhabyns sister.

Nataliya Iyaneva Bolgravya wife of Borund.

The Duchy of Bolgravya

The Grand Duke and Duchess of Anuskaya

Grand Duke Stasa Olegov Bolgravya

Grand Duchess Alesya Zaveta Bolgravya

Their children

Konstantin Stasayev Bolgravya the first son.

Grigory Stasayev Bolgravya the fourth son.

The Royalty of the Other Duchies

Duke Leonid Roaldov Dhalingrad

Duchess Iyana Klarieva Dhalingrad

Duke Yegor Nikolov Nodhvyansk

Duchess Kseniya Zoyeva Nodhvyansk

Duke Yevgeny Krazhnegov Mirkotsk

Duchess Polina Anayev Mirkotsk

Duke Andreyo Sergeyov Rhavanki

Duchess Ekaterina Margeva Rhavanki

Duke Heodor Yaroslov Lhudansk

Duchess Rosa Oriseva Lhudansk

Duke Aleg Ganevov Khazabyirsk

Duchess Zanaida Lariseva Khazabyirsk

The Aramahn and the Maharraht

Ashan Kida al Ahrumea one of the arqesh (master of all disciplines) among the Aramahn.

Nasim an Ashan an orphan boy with strange powers.

Jahalan Atman al Mitra Nikandrs havaqiram (wind master).

Udra Amir al Rasa Nikandrs dhosaqiram (master of the stuff of life).

Fahroz Bashar al Lilliah a mahtar in the village of Iramanshah.

Soroush Wahad al Gatha leader of the northern sect of the Maharraht.

Ahya Soroush al Rehada deceased daughter of Rehada and Soroush. Died on the shores of Bolgravya.

Bersuq Wahad al Gatha Soroushs brother and second in command.

Muwas Umar al Mariyah a gifted jalaqiram.

PART I

CHAPTER 1

In a modest home in the center of Volgorod, Nikandr Iaroslov Khalakovo sat in a simple wooden chair, considering the woman sleeping on the bed nearby. Dawn was breaking, ivory light filtering in through the small round window fixed high into the opposite wall. His woolen cherkesska lay across his lap, ready for him to slip into. His boots were already on.

The rumpled bedcovers left half of Rehadas form uncovered. His eyes traced the curve of her shoulders, the soft valley of her spine, the arch at the small of her back. Her dark skin blended with the blanket and sheetscocoa against crimson and cream. The air inside the room was chill, but Rehada would be warm, and he wanted nothing more than to slip beneath the covers, to return to her arms, however foolish it might be considering the family that had landed on the island the night before and the events of the coming day.

He gripped the arms of the chair, readying himself to head for the eyrie, when Rehada stirred. He paused, wondering what her mood would be now that the day had come.

She turned over, her dark eyes focusing on him slowly. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse. Will you see her?

Nikandr shook his head. I doubt she will brave the weather.

Rehada paused. Is she so frail?

Frail? The hint of a smile touched his lips. Nyet. The Vostromans are not frail. But I fear she looks upon this marriage in the same manner as I.

And how is that?

Have I not told you? he chided.

Tell me again.

He stood and took a step toward the door. As an unwelcome obligation.

She leaned on one elbow. The covers draped over her waist, accentuating the bow of her hip, the lines of her thighs. A mole marked her left breast, just above the nipple. Anyone else might think there was little emotion inside her, but Nikandr knew the signs. She was hurt.

He glanced up at the window and the brightening sky. He could, perhaps, justify a short delay.

He was nearly ready to go to her when his stomach clenched. That painful, familiar feeling had returned, and it was all he could do to mask it from Rehada.

It was a scene theyd played out a handful of times already. She studied him, confused but unwilling to voice her concerns when he was so clearly unwilling to share. Words of explanation nearly slipped from his mouth, but as hed done so many times before, he remained silent. This was not something he could share with her. Not yet.

Go, she said, turning away from him and lying down. And give your bride a kiss for me.

The pain was growing worseperhaps a sign from the ancients. Either way, he was late.

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, and though he left without another word, the scent of her jasmine hair haunted him throughout the cold and empty streets.

As his pony crested the snow-covered hill, Nikandr squinted from the reflection of the morning sun. The walrus tusk cartridges on the bandolier across his chest clacked as he shifted position in the saddle. Although the wind was brisk and bitter, it had been a long ride and he had long since grown accustomed to it.

The road ahead lay emptya change from the previous hour, which had brought a score of wagons and coaches heading in the opposite direction toward Volgorod. He could not yet see the eyrie on its high cliff, but its presence could be felt. A dozen ships, waiting for their berth, held position among the burly white clouds. The ships bore goods or dignitaries, or both, in anticipation of the coming Council. Most would return home immediately in hopes of flying the circuit again before Council finished three weeks hence, but somethose whose homes were too distant or whose masters only purpose was to treat with the gathered royaltywould remain for the duration.

As Nikandr continued down the slope, a massive galleon belonging to the Duchy of Mirkotsk climbed and arced northward, passing high overhead. Four masts were affixed in each of the primary directions: starward, landward, seaward, and windward, sixteen in all. It was a large ship, difficult to pilot, but that was no excuse for the way it was heeling to its windward side. He cupped his hands to his mouth and called like a gull, wishing it safe journey. Moments later, several of the men hanging among the lower rigging waved.