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pastures of the great herds, jealously guarded by the desert people. Without the Umni as her
guide, Tashi would have been stopped before she had gone very far. As it was, they rode
through the tent villages and were made welcome each evening by a different headman.
"My grandson's betrothed," Zaradan would say with a regal sweep of his hand to Tashi, now well hidden under purple desert robes. This was enough for her to be accepted.
In the hours spent together in the saddle, Tashi grew to admire the old man.
He was no friendly soul like Lagan, ready with a hug and a word of encouragement, but harsh
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and indomitable, rather like his land. Yet he had a kindly streak and a respect that showed in his
dealings with her. He had begun to call her "daughter," as if he considered her already married to Ramil-- a bittersweet title for Tashi, not knowing if she would ever see him again.
At the port of Tarqui, a ramshackle town of white houses and wind-blown palms, Tashi realized
she had reached the point where she would have to leave the stallion behind.
"Umni," she said as they dismounted on the harbor, "please take Thunder for me." She handed him the reins. "Keep him for Ramil."
Zaradan touched his head then his heart. "I promise to deliver him to my grandson."
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Tashi took off her light saddle bag, containing Ramil's shirts and her old clothes ruined in the
river, then said her farewells to the horse.
"If you find Ramil," she told Thunder solemnly, "take care of him for me."
The horse bumped noses with her, then butted her gently away.
Zaradan sent a man ahead to scout the dockside. No Empire ship would be safe for Tashi; it
would have to be a trading vessel from another nation, like the neutral lands to the south or the
Ice Archipelago. Tashi waited patiently, watching the seabirds diving for the scraps thrown to
them by the fishermen gutting their catch. The man returned swiftly.
"Umni, there is a Blue Crescent trader in the harbor!" he declared. "They said they'd take on a passenger."
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Tashi felt her heart leap. Finally, the Goddess was smiling on her.
"Well then, let us negotiate your passage," said Zaradan, offering her his hand. "It will be interesting to have proof of your identity from a countryman."
"Countrywoman, I expect," Tashi corrected him, hurrying towards the square-sailed boat with a feeling of coming home.
The return to her people, however, did not proceed smoothly. Uniloma, salt trader from
Phonilara, refused to believe Tashi's claim that she was the Fourth Crown Princess, even when
she removed her desert veil and showed her blonde hair. Instead, the hard-bitten old
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trader called the Goddess's curses down on the head of the girl who could make such a
sacrilegious assertion.
"I've seen the Fourth Crown Princess," Uniloma declared. "She was on her barge heading off on some grand voyage. Beautiful she was: so poised and calm, face white as it should be, hair
veiled."
"But that was me!" protested Tashi from the dock-side. "I was sitting on the Throne of Nature wearing an orange sash."
"Any fool knows what the Fourth Crown Princess wears. That proves nothing. You don't behave
like an Islander, young miss; you look like one, but you're acting like an Easterner."
Tashi opened her mouth to refute this but then closed it again. It was true: her countrywomen
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would hardly recognize her these days as she had
become so emotional. Her behavior was indecent by Blue Crescent
standards.
Zaradan stepped in. "So you say this girl is an impostor?"
"I can't see how she can be anything else," Uniloma stated resolutely.
"But, by your admission, she is an Islander. Will you carry her to Rama? I will pay you well for
your trouble."
"As long as she does not come up with any more nonsense like this, I'll take her." Uniloma's eye was on the purse at Zaradan's waist.
Zaradan nodded and dropped a bag of coins into the woman's wrinkled palm. Tashi turned
away, humiliated. A cloud covered the sun and the water turned grey.
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Small waves chopped at the jetty. Everything looked bleak and colorless.
She felt a pressure on her arm and found Zaradan at her side. He bent and kissed her on the
brow.
"It took me a while but I believe you, daughter. Captain Uniloma will too when she realizes that
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people, even crown princesses, can change. You've become more yourself, that is all."
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for having faith in me."
"And you, my daughter, have faith that I will help Ramil. And when I see him, I will tell him
where he can find you."
It was a slight hope he offered but far better than nothing. Tashi nodded and bowed a deep Blue
Crescent bow to a king. She then picked up her bag and boarded the ship. Uniloma was ready to
sail, having loaded her cargo. Tashi kept out of the way as her countrymen cast off and turned
the boat westward.
The southern shore with its little ports and rocky inlets dropped below the horizon, leaving only
the golden glow of the distant sand dunes to hint at the presence of land.
On the journey home, Uniloma and the rest of the crew watched their passenger suspiciously.
The girl said very little, but they were surprised to see she knew the rituals of the Goddess and
followed them faithfully each morning and evening. It was clear that
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she found great solace in this task; her face was calm and content as she completed the prayers
with skill and no fuss. A whisper of doubt crept into the captain's mind.
"Where did you say you were from, girl?" Uniloma asked gruffly one morning. The vessel was far out to sea, giving a wide berth to the coastline of western Holt and any bold pirate vessel.
"From Kai."
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"And your name?"
"Taoshira." Tashi did not risk giving her title again but neither was she going to lie.
Uniloma clucked in irritation.
"My family and friends call me Tashi."
"I'll call you Tashi then. I'm not using a princess's name for you."
Tashi sighed. There was no point arguing. The truth would come out when they returned to
Rama. It would only be an unseemly squabble if she pressed her claim here.
That's if anyone recognizes me, Tashi thought glumly. I'm not sure I'd know me either. I might
have to stand naked before my servants to prove my point.
She smiled at the idea. No, I'm definitely not the same person if I can laugh about that.
After two weeks at sea, Rama appeared on the horizon, the familiar mountain rising from the
Sapphire Ocean with the city on its slopes in a patchwork cloak of green, gold, and white roofs.
Tashi leant on the rail, wishing away the final miles, relieved that she had
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made it home in good time. The long journey through Brigard, Kandar, and Holt now seemed
almost like a dream as her life joined full circle with the girl who had sailed unwillingly for Gerfal 330
only a few months before.
Uniloma wanted no more to do with her dubious passenger once they had cleared customs.
Dumped with her bag on the dockside, Tashi hesitated as to her next step. There was no barge
waiting to meet her, no guard of honor.
The porters jostled her, the sailors ignored her, and the street vendors took one look at her