“Where is our bridegroom?” Dusshela demanded, her voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. “Where is his Kheshig? Am I to walk you to Khublai’s throne room myself to get these answers?”

  Cheongsun and Urduja kept their eyes fixed firmly on their sandals. The two warriors would have walked into a furnace rather than betray Zhenjin’s location to Dusshela.

  “For over a week, our bridegroom has been missing,” Dusshela continued, her pacing sharp and predatory. “We have been forced to lie to the Six Ladies of the Six Nations. Do you understand the gravity of this insult?”

  Urduja and Cheongsun swallowed hard, their throats dry, but their silence remained absolute. They were anchored by a loyalty that transcended the fear of Queens.

  —————————-

  In a wind-swept wheat field, far from the prying eyes of the court, the Secretary General of the Ming, Hong Wu, huddled with Lin Feng, Qiao Bo, and Chen.

  “He rescued the Lady Tr?n from the suttee,” Hong Wu whispered, the golden stalks of wheat hissing around them.

  “Are you certain he is the enemy?” Lin Feng asked, brow furrowed. “Lady Tr?n is Xinese by blood. The Annamese are our cousins.”

  “Perhaps,” Qiao Bo countered, “but that rescue means he now has four wealthy Queens pouring gold into his coffers. The Song Emperor would never dare attack Annam; Khublai is a madman to even attempt it.”

  “So, to whom does Annam belong now?” Chen asked, looking toward the horizon. “Is it still independent? Does it fall to the Middle Kingdom, or is it merely a new province of the Khanate?”

  “In this chaos,” Hong Wu replied darkly, “it belongs to whoever can hold it.”

  ————————

  Back at the Thantin Castle-Fort, Shi Shan was in the throes of a royal temper tantrum.

  “Fools! Idiots!” she screeched, her voice like grinding stone. “I did my part! I led Zhenjin away from Dadu! There were only four of them who took the girl. Five dozen Cham warriors against Zhenjin and four horsemen... and you let them escape?”

  “Sambodji didn't tell us about the nine wizards!” a captain stammered, backing away. “They had weapons from a nightmare—burning swords and smoke bombs that sucked the very breath from your lungs. Men suffocated without spilling a drop of blood!”

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  “I thought those nine mages burned with Tara Bai at Rajasthan,” Sambodji .

  “Fool!” she screamed, lunging forward. “You thought? You were wrong! And now we are exposed! The wizards... they saw me. They saw us!” Her hand, curved like a predatory claw, lashed out, leaving bloody furrows across Sambodji’s face.

  “Stop this fighting! Let’s take stock of the situation and decide how best for us to move.” Kaedo intercedes

  “Khublai wants to attack Annam but he can’t muster the man power to do it.” Sambodji

  “Ariq wants to declare himself emperor but we must control Dadu for him to do it. Perhaps when Khublai launches his attack on Annam we could wrest DaDu”. Durjana

  “Will Khublai will take his son with him to Annam?” Sambodji asked

  “Zhenjin is opposed to the war. He will stay out in Xanadu. We need to get Zhenjin and the Vassal Heirs out of the way.” Kaedo states emphatically

  “The best thing to do is to drive a wedge between father and son. Without Zhenjin we have a far better chance of taking DaDu.“ Shi Shan concludes.

  “How?”

  “If convince Khublai that Zhenjin wants to depose him… perhaps he will decide to preempt his son. Sons have been known to kill their fathers. And vice-versa,” Shi Shan proposes.

  “Zhenjin is a loyal son,” Kaedo counters.

  “Until he is not.” Shi Shan hisses

  “That’s so devious.”

  “Why… thank you,” replied Shi Shan.

  ———————-

  “Do not make them face the Khan, Dusshela,” Gitarji pleaded softly. “It will ruin Urduja and Cheongsun.”

  “I know,” Dusshela sighed, her anger replaced by a cold weariness. “I won’t do it. But is there any word from Zalir?”

  “No. But he clearly rode out with Zhenjin,” Gitarji replied. “Could Zhenjin be so terrified of a marriage bed that he would flee like a common coward?”

  “Of course not,” Tara Bai interrupted. “He wants to marry Yanli and trade with the Brotherhood. I believe he intends to join them.”

  “The Panata is meant for Austronesians,” Dusshela noted sharply.

  “Spice is the true master here,” Tara Bai countered. “The Qin claim they are time-travelers, that the desert spice allows them to traverse forbidden barriers until their eyes turn the color of the deep sky. Zhenjins got a desert to grow spice. In this world, money is the only god that hears every prayer.”

  “I cannot command Zalir,” Gitarji said, her voice trembling as she looked away. “He was banished. He was to be resworn into the King’s service, but the attack changed everything.”

  “You control him, Gitarji,” Dusshela said, stepping closer. “What exists between you and Zalir lies beyond the oaths of mortal kings.”

  “Since his banishment, he is no longer mine to command,” Gitarji wept, the tears finally breaking through. Tara Bai and Dusshela looked on, helpless against her grief.

  “We cannot hide this forever,” Dusshela said gently. “In ten days, if Zhenjin does not return to Weilan, I must take Urduja and Cheongsun to face the Khan.”

  Gitarji’s grief turned to a sudden, sharp flash of anger. “Zalir! How can you do this to me? You promised you would never leave!”

  “My Queen,” Dusshela whispered, “he will leave you. He intends to stay at the Khanate only long enough to see you safe. His heart is set on Makassar. He intends to fight and die there.”

  “As long as you are together, the war pursues you,” Tara Bai added solemnly. “By returning to Makassar alone, he eliminates you as a target. You know this is his way of saving you.”

  Queen Gitarji dried her tears, her face hardening into a mask of regal resolve. “Yes,” she whispered. “I know.