Hostage Princess

Part 2 - the King

When consciousness returned, she could not say how much time had passed. It might have been a heartbeat, it might have been a week – it was all the same to her. Her eyelids were heavy as stone, her limbs cramped and stiff; the agony in her stomach had receded to a dull ache, not unlike the pains she experienced each month when her moon blood came.

But she had not seen her moon blood for four months. She was carrying Awan’s child.

Awan.

The memory came rushing back with a stab of pain more sharp and intense than she could have believed. Her stomach convulsed again. She clenched her fist and groaned.

A pair of cold hands gripped hers. ‘My lady!’ Ani’s urgent voice was muffled, as if she were a great distance away. ‘Susa – I thought we’d lost you!’

Susa forced her eyes open, wincing against the light, gazing at the familiar lines of her sister’s long face until she was in focus.

‘What happened?’ she whispered, her voice hoarse from disuse.

Ani squeezed her hand. ‘The city is fallen. Your father and husband are dead. You lost the child.’

Closing her eyes against the words, Susa exhaled long and deep. The grief was numbing, too much to absorb all at one time. It overwhelmed her - she was alone in the world. Her people would look to her for protection, but who could she look to? She felt she ought to cry, to express her grief, but the pain was too strong for tears, and her heart could not yet accept the truth of things. To weep would be to make it all real.

‘And my maids? Nazaru? ... Ashan?’ she almost feared to ask about her son. Her most precious jewel. Her one remaining link to the love that was forever lost.

‘The maids have been parcelled out to Babylonian soldiers as spoils of war. They spared me because of my royal blood, tainted though it is. Ashan is with Nazaru. Your bodyguard has refused to leave you – he says he swore a sacred vow to your husband, his kin, to protect you as if you were his own wife, even unto death. A Babylonian pressed his dagger into Nazaru’s throat, drawing blood, commanding him to leave, and still the boy would not back down. Whatever ill may befall you, I do not think you will come to harm while he lives.’

She sighed. If Ashan was safe, she had a reason to live. She could not ask Nazaru to speed her to the underworld to join her husband - she had a duty to their son, to put him in his rightful place on his grandfather's throne. Awan would have expected no less of her.

‘I would like to speak to Nazaru, if he is nearby,’ she croaked, eyes still closed.

‘He’s in the antechamber. I’ll fetch him.’

The cold hands disappeared and Ani’s footsteps receded. The door opened and closed with a dull thud. Two sets of footsteps returned – one quick and light, the other firm and heavy. When she sensed them near her bed, Susa made the effort to open her eyes.

Nazaru’s face was impassive, betraying no hint of sympathy or pity. She was glad; she did not think she could bear it. He looked down at her, waiting.

‘I want you to promise me something,’ she said, beginning to recover some of the strength of her voice.

‘I am sworn to you,’ he answered. ‘Whatever you command, it is already done.’

She nodded gently, feeling the weight of her head straining her neck and a jolt of pain behind her eyes. ‘I do not know what will happen in the days and weeks to come. I do not know what to expect from the Babylonians, nor what their intentions are for me. If they attempt to defile me in any way, you must prevent it. I will not allow them to add that further insult to my husband's memory.’