Page 19 of Blood of the Sands

He and Aderyn spent the next several minutes wrapping me in one long continuous strip of cloth, as my outfit turned out to be. I watched curiously as Neven affixed the end at my hip with a long silver pin, decorated with the emblem of a rearing horse, wondering at the style.

“I practice the sacred weaving techniques of our people, making the fabrics of Kelvadan the finest most travelers have ever seen,” Neven explained in response to my curious expression. “Sometimes it seems a shame to cut and sew something I consider a piece of art in and of itself, so I’ve designed many ways to wear the swathes of fabric as I create them. You have to let the fabric tell you what it wants to be.”

I nodded my understanding, awestruck by the way the cloth dripped over my body disguising the sharp hipbones and ribs that were already softening after a week in Kelvadan. The amethyst color brought out the golden undertones in my light brown skin. Once I was dressed, I sat still while Aderyn braided a matching purple scarf into my hair, using the end of the strip to tie it in place.

“Now you’re ready to dance and drink too much laka,” she proclaimed proudly as I laced up a pair of sandals, slightly too tight as they were borrowed from Aderyn. While she certainly outweighed me in muscle, I was taller, and my feet were larger.

“What exactly is the purpose of the festival?” I asked as we left and joined the chaos of citizens making revelry in the street, a steady flow climbing the streets up toward the palace.

“Purpose? Does one need a purpose for a party?” Neven asked with a smile.

Aderyn elbowed him, but he didn’t flinch, indicating she hadn’t put her significant muscle behind the action. “It’s the yearly celebration of the anniversary of Kelvadan’s building.”

“How was a city like this built? I would think it took years.” I looked up at the buildings each set into the mountainside like jewels in the hilt of a sword, the road up through the city weaving back and forth as it ascended toward the spire of the palace at the precipice.

Neven’s eyes twinkled in excitement. “We wouldn’t want to tell you and spoil everything. The queen recites the story of Kelvadan’s founding at the palace’s celebration every year, and she tells it better than anybody.”

My curiosity piqued, I looked to Aderyn, but neither of them said any more on the matter. When we reached the palace, the general atmosphere of revelry was at its peak. The gates to the front courtyard were thrown open, partygoers milling about the large stone space as they joked and laughed. Aderyn led us through the crowds, past the horseback statue that served as the centerpiece. I glanced up at his face again, my eyes inexorably drawn to his strong jaw and quirked brow. He had been decorated for the festival, a crown of golden larrea flowers woven around his head and draped over his horse’s neck.

At a table near the wall of the palace, Neven fetched us drinks. He handed me a mug and I sniffed curiously. Something floral and spicy met my nose, the liquid a pale yellow, almost completely clear.

“The queen always breaks out the good laka for the festival every year, so enjoy Kelvadan’s finest while you can,” Neven urged.

Taking a sip, it coated my tongue and warmed my belly in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable despite the balminess of the night. The liquid was nutty and bitter, but not in an unpleasant way. I remembered nights of adults drinking laka and laughing in my clan, but I had been too young to partake and had never tried it before.

Aderyn and Neven milled through the crowd with me at their elbow as I nursed my drink. Nearly everybody seemed to recognize them, and I found myself introduced to more people than I had even imagined lived in the city. I nodded and smiled at each of them, trying to store names in my already overcrowded brain and failing miserably. Just as I was about to give up on the endeavor altogether, a hush fell over the crowd.

I followed their collective gazes to the palace doors, which swung open to reveal a shimmering figure. Queen Ginevra stepped forward to stand at the top of the handful of steps leading up to the doors. I hadn’t realized it when we met before, but she was short enough that even elevated a few steps, her head didn’t come much higher than the taller men in the crowd. Still, with the braziers on either side of the door flanking her, firelight shimmering off her silks until she looked like a statue of molten gold, she captured everybody’s attention in an iron grip.

She raised her arms, and the whispering hush turned to total silence, as if everybody held their breath in anticipation of her words.

“Nearly two hundred years ago, something completely ordinary and yet utterly miraculous happened,” the queen started. “Two people fell in love.”

My brows rose, and I leaned forward as if I could get closer to the queen’s words.

“Kelvar was a great rider of Clan Katal, blessed with the desert’s magic beyond what many had seen before. Enemies fell before him like grain before a scythe, and many came to fear his clan. The lord of Clan Katal rejoiced in the power it gave him, sending Kelvar to attack Clan Padra and steal away the lord’s daughter, for he coveted many of their riches.

“Kelvar did as his lord asked, and stole away the lord’s daughter, Alyx, in the dead of night. On the ride back to Clan Katal, Kelvar’s mount stepped into a fox hole and injured his leg. Kelvar was so bonded to his loyal mount that he refused to end its life. Seeing this, Alyx, who was blessed by the desert in her own way with a gift for healing, tended to the horse. During their delay, they came to know each other better, and one of the greatest bonds ever known to the Ballan Desert was born.

“When they returned to Clan Katal, Kelvar told his lord that he refused to ransom Alyx back to her father and planned to marry her instead. Alyx sent word to her father as well, but both lords refused them, threatening the couple with exile if they went through with the wedding.

“Kelvar grew full of rage that the warring ways of the clans would get in the way of love, a power greater than all of them. He called upon the magic of the desert for a feat greater than any that had been seen before. At the base of the mountains where the clans had camped, the desert reshaped herself at his command. All the clans spread across the sands to the sea felt the ground shake as a city carved itself into the side of the mountain, a safe place for Kelvar and Alyx to make a life together.

“He declared the city would be a safe place for members of any clan to come together without war or violence. It was a new beginning for the clans of the Ballan Desert. On that day, my grandfather, Kelvar, became the first king of this city, which was named in his honor.”

The queen flung out an arm, gesturing to the statue in the middle of the square. Looking now, I saw the same determined set of her jaw as the horseman, Kelvar, wore.

“Tonight, we celebrate not only Kelvar and Alyx, my grandparents, but what this haven they built stands for. It was carved with the magic of the desert in the name of their bond. So let us celebrate the gifts Kelvadan represents: peace, magic, and the greatest of all, love.”

The crowd roared and stamped in approval, glasses lifted in the air before all drank deeply in agreement. I myself drained the remaining contents of my glass, the warmth of the alcohol drowning out the sudden stinging behind my eyes.

At a wave from the queen, musicians I hadn’t noticed before at the side of the square began playing. The noise of pounding drums, overcut by a cheerful melody from a wooden flute, filled the air. If I thought the atmosphere had been celebratory before, it was nothing compared to the joy in the air as people began to dance. Neven and Aderyn quickly drifted away, her hands thrown in the air as she moved to the music. Neven’s gaze seemed glued to her, his hands drifting to her waist.

The beat of the drums filled my blood as I accepted another cup of laka, and I found myself swaying along to the music as I watched the rhythmic movements of the sea of dancers. The sun had set, and colored lanterns and flickering braziers lit the courtyard, giving the whole place a dreamlike atmosphere.

As I finished my second glass of laka, a hand landed on my elbow. I didn’t start like I might have, the atmosphere and the alcohol making my body molten and pliant. Looking to see who asked for my attention, I found the smiling face of a man Aderyn had introduced me to earlier. My brain was too fuzzy to call forth a name, but I remember a joke he told making me laugh.

“It’s not a true festival if you don’t dance just a little,” he commented, talking loudly to be heard over the increasing volume of the music.