"And yet it was my great penis that attracted you first, lady," he teased her gently.

Zenaida chuckled. "Aye," she agreed, "it was, but was that also not a ploy of the goddess to bring you to my attention?"

He laughed with her. He liked this big kind woman who had more the qualities of a good mother, it seemed to him, than a queen or a dignitary. "Tell me what Kalida looks like," he said. "You say she is beautiful, and the goddess has favored her, but how beautiful?"

"She is tall for a woman. Her head will come to your shoulder. She is slender, yet her form is most womanly. Her breasts are like high cones of snow topped with rosy tips like a pale sunrise just touching the mountain's peak. Her face is shaped like a heart, her forehead smooth, high and unmarked. Her eyes are oval in shape, and the green of an emerald. Her nose is slim, and in perfect proportion with her face. Her mouth is large for a woman, and very, very sensual. Her hair is the color of gilt, the palest gold touched with silver. You have never seen hair this color before, I promise you."

"She sounds most fair," Dagon said softly.

"If you are to win her, you must tread a very fine line, my princeling," Zenaida cautioned him. "She must be treated like a queen at all times, but you must also make her feel like a woman. None have accomplished this feat before you. Do so, and your fortune is made."

"You are asking me to subvert my own nature to please your queen, Zenaida, and I do not know if I can," Dagon said honestly. "Your handmaids tell me each night as they mount me how inferior men are to women. Yet I believe the opposite. How am I to reconcile these two adverse reasonings then? And I must if I am to succeed in this endeavor."

"It is not unknown, although it is not spoken of aloud, for a man to hold a dominant position within his lover's bedchamber," Zenaida said quietly. "Although I shall deny it if asked, my size makes it far more comfortable for my mate, Durantis, to ride between my generous thighs than for me to mount his slimmer frame. I should crush the poor darling," she chuckled. "Once, however, I was as slender as our queen. Age has increased my girth, but even in our youth, Durantis and I sported in a variety of positions," she concluded. "You will have to have forbearance, Dagon, my handsome princeling. You must attract Kalida first with your great sexual prowess, and then with your intelligence and wit."

"How must I approach her?" he queried his mentor.

"First with respect, for she is a queen, though you are her equal. Still, make not the error one poor fool made several years ago when he decided that the queen was just a sweet little girl in need of a strong man's dominance. He was given that very night for public pleasures, and then sent to dig in our diamond mines where he still resides, greatly chastened, I am informed, and considered a fool by his companions. Kalida may try your patience at first, and even seem arrogant, but she knows of no other way, having been Queen of Kava since she was just fourteen. Once she believes your esteem for her is genuine, you may safely begin your campaign to win her heart. Every woman has a heart, even Kalida, the Queen of Kava."

"I shall try not to disappoint you, great lady," he told her. No. He would not disappoint her, for the only way he might escape Kava and return to Aramas would be to become the queen's mate. This would allow him to live in the Outer Palace of the Consorts, free of restraint. He had learned a great deal from Zenaida's handmaidens these past weeks. The consorts of the former queens were men who could be trusted. The women warriors who guarded Kava paid them little heed. He would indeed have to be patient, for it would take months to effect his plan of escape, but escape he would.

And one day he would return to Aramas. Nogad might have taken Aurea for a wife, and sired sons upon her, but he would nonetheless slay his traitorous sibling, and his spawn. If Aurea objected, he would slay her, too. He could not marry a woman defiled by his twin. And if their father still lived, he would applaud his eldest son's actions. His father was a man of honor. If his father, however, had gone to the gods, he would simply destroy Nogad and all that was his, and take his rightful place upon the throne of Aramas.

Halfway through the following day, the caravan stopped before the foot of a tall mountain whose top belched forth smoke. The High Procuress stood before a wall of flat, black rock at the mountain's base, and struck it three times with her staff of office, calling, "In the name of the goddess, Suneva, open to me!" With a rumble, an opening appeared in the rock, and the caravan passed through into a well-lit tunnel. Zenaida then turned, and, striking the earth with her staff, said, "In the name of the goddess, Suneva, close, and keep us safe!" The opening then disappeared even as it had earlier revealed itself.

They moved through the passage for several hours. It was very silent but for the sound of feet, both animal and human. The area was comfortably wide enough to accommodate the caravan, and very well lit. The air was still, and a trifle musty. Dagon had noted the smoking top of the mountain as they entered beneath it, but he saw no evidence of volcanic activity as they moved along. They stopped to rest and eat after an hour or more. A woman warrior came and unchained Dagon, reconnecting Wit to Ziv.

"The lady Zenaida wishes your company, barbarian," she said.

Reaching the High Procuress, he bowed deferentially to her.

She handed him a piece of flat bread to eat, and offered her flask of wine. "Walk by my side the rest of the way," she said.

"I thank you for your kindness," he answered.

"Nicely done," she remarked approvingly. "Polite, but not servile. I knew I might count upon your instincts, Dagon."

"Why does the mountaintop smoke?" he asked her. "This is no volcano, great lady."

"You are observant," she replied. "The top smokes because we make it smoke. People see it, and assume the mountain is dangerous. That, of course, suits our purposes as you will soon discover. It is so simple. The smoke comes from pitch burning in a kettle. The kettle sits atop a clay brazier so no flames from the fire can be seen." She held out a hand to him. Pulling her to her feet, he helped her into her cart, which was drawn by two sturdy white horses. "Another hour," Zenaida said, "and we shall exit this passage into the valley of Kava, my princeling. It will be another day and a half to the city from there."

It was late afternoon when they came forth from the tunnel. Immediately the sound of trumpets was heard echoing back and forth throughout the great valley with its rim of green hills. Dagon looked about him, and saw the fortifications at the tunnel's mouth. Upon the barricade walls stood well-armed women warriors, and a half a dozen trumpeters who were sounding both a welcome and a message to the forts farther on, and closer to the city itself. He was impressed in spite of himself.

They made their encampment that night by the tunnel fort. Looking out over the valley before the sun set, the Prince of Aramas thought he had never seen a more beautiful place. Their travels the following day confirmed his first impressions. Zenaidapointed out the road moving back into the mountains where the mines were located. They came down into an area of soft hills where sheep and cattle grazed. In the deeper valley there were orchards and vineyards. They passed through several small villages, the most interesting feature of which was the paucity of men, and older boys.

"Are there no men in these villages?" he asked.

"There are some graybeards, of course, whose good behavior over the years has earned them the privilege of remaining with their mates. Other men are allowed to come at planting and harvest times, and, of course, at festival times," Zenaidaexplained. "Each year on the great feast of Suneva the eight-year-old boys are gathered up throughout the land, and brought to the military barracks to begin their training."

"Have you ever had any sons?" he gently inquired.

"Durantis and I bred up three boys and four daughters," she replied matter-of-factly. "Our sons are long gone, and our daughters are a great comfort to us now. Sons leave their mothers when they take a wife anyway," Zenaida reasoned. "They would have gone sooner than later, my princeling."

It was midmorning of the next day that they saw the city for the first time. Dagon had to admit to himself that he had never before seen such a wonderful and fantastic place. It was all white marble. Golden domes and soaring silver-roofed towers that touched the sky, green hanging gardens, and glistening water courses all beckoned.

"There is the Outer Palace of the Consorts," Zenaida told him, pointing to a magnificent group of buildings as they passed it. "And there are the boys' barracks there."

He noted both were well outside the city's walls. He was surprised when the caravan turned off, but his mentor explained that the new male slaves would be bathed, evaluated, and then sent to their assignments. "What of me? Am I to go to the queen now?" he asked.

"No," she said. "You are my personal gift to the queen, Dagon. I did not purchase you with Kava's funds, but my own. You will come to my home to be bathed, fed, and rest. Tonight I shall offer you to Kalida with my compliments."

"I thought men were not allowed within the city walls at night," he replied.

She smiled at him. "They are not but for lovers, and rank has its privileges, my princeling, as you well know."

The palace of the High Procuress was a gracious structure of creamy marble. Entering into its courtyard, Dagon saw the great pillars holding up the porch were of red-veined marble capped in gold, and the courtyard was filled with flowers. By the time he was taken to the bath, Zenaida's handmaidens had already broadcast forth the details of his manhood, and he was surrounded by an extraordinary number of women.