Bonn fought against his heavy eyelids. He wanted to get up and move, to explore this new world, find Starlex. Maybe she survived after all, maybe…

  The sunlight baked his skin, worn rough from the surf, but he couldn’t move his head to escape its punishing rays, so he submitted instead. His fingers relaxed around the fistfuls of sand, and he found himself gently cradled by a new world. He slowly drifted off. His sleep was peaceful at first as if he were floating on the sea that had delivered him to this strange place. But then the landscape changed to a dark, snow-filled forest. He was riding into his village on the shores of Kadaar to find it burning, his wife and son dead. From the clouds of black smoke rose a dreaded Thrade with red eyes glowing.

  Bonn awoke with a start and gazed out to sea. A fishing boat bobbed on the horizon against a blazing sunset. His stomach growled, and he wondered what he could trade for some food. He peered down at his tattered clothes. The sea had swallowed his boots and his fur-lined cape. His trousers and jerkin were dry but in tatters. Still, he thought, I can work for my supper. He clambered to his feet and waited by the shore for the boat to come in.

  At first, the men, sun-shellacked, wiry fellows who looked so similar Bonn assumed they had to be related, were wary, even scared, as Bonn approached them as they dragged their boat to shore. It took several attempts at awkward sign language for Bonn to communicate to the fishermen that he had no intention of robbing them. He would help them haul in their catch in exchange for something to eat. One look at Bonn’s muscular arms and the older man agreed.

  Bonn made himself serviceable, helping the men haul the nets filled with fish from the boat and loading it onto a wagon. After they completed their labor, the men built a fire on the shore and made their supper from the day’s catch, adding spiced rice to the meal.

  Bonn waited patiently until one of the men cautiously pushed a plate toward him. He thanked the fishermen in the Ardelymian common tongue. There is nothing like physical labor or warfare to bond men together, and soon they exchanged names and shy smiles around the campfire. The Skaard’s new friends were brothers: Paló, the older, and Miku, the younger. Both had the hard, lean muscles of men who work hard every day.

  After eating his fill, Bonn settled back on the rug the fishermen provided for him. He gazed at the sky with wonder. Only one moon, large and nearly, graced the Heavens. His eyes searched for the familiar constellations he knew since he was a boy: the dragon Quetzex with her long, curved tail or Illym’s maiden, Shylah, but found neither.

  As the food settled in his stomach, Bonn closed his eyes and mouthed a silent prayer to the new Heavens, whose canopy he now slept beneath.

  Perhaps I’m becoming a religious man, after all, he thought before sleep overtook him.

  For thirty nights, Bonn watched the night sky slowly shift. Each day, he worked hard with Paló and Miku, who seemed more than happy to have the muscular Skaard on board to hoist the fish-laden nets from the sea.

  They labored hard from dawn till dusk, alternately fishing and selling their catch at the city market.

  The citizens of Mudárah stared with wild wonder at the man with the ice-blue eyes and golden hair, but Bonn shook off their curiosity and focused on his work. Within a few days, he had picked up on the language, and he was speaking it fluently within weeks.

  With the coin he earned selling fish, he purchased a new set of clothing from one of the stalls where a shy woman giggled at him from behind her veil. In his white linen shirt, hennaed britches, and sandals, Bonn Skaard drew fewer stares. He tamed his long hair with a piece of leather twine and even allowed Paló’s wife to trim his beard. He grew close to his new family, who graciously gave him a cot to sleep on in the small stable where they housed their only horse. They knew Bonn would fight to the death anyone who tried to steal it.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Each evening, after the day’s catch was cleaned and prepped for market, he bid farewell to Paló and Miko to walk every street and alleyway in the city searching for his white-hair Illymium princess. And, although it shamed him to trespass their perfumed dens, Bonn visited the local brothels. He knew how vultures targeted lone women, especially as young and beautiful as Starlex. He was relieved to find no women fitting her description and proud of himself for resisting the temptation of the brothels’ sensual wares. He vowed forthwith to save himself for his one love.

  One evening, after trawling the winding streets of Mudárah, the city that had become his new home, Bonn rested on a low wall that separated the sea from the main thoroughfare. As he listened to the surf lapping against the sea wall below, he gazed up at a white-domed palace rearing over the city. Bonn regarded the structure with trepidation. He had learned from his new friends that a king resided there.

  I’ve never had much use for kings or queens for that matter…

  His thoughts floated to Hyperia Davadas, his lady wife’s lustful sister who tried her best to seduce him within the lower depths of Oran Palace.

  He gulped in the sea air, letting it clear his mind of the foul image.

  A sudden gust of perfumed wind replaced the tang of salty air. Bonn observed a stately carriage dripping with bright silks pulled by a team of two robust black horses approach.

  A female voice floated from the wagon. The driver, sitting high on an ornately-painted box, halted at the sudden command. A delicate hand parted a lavender silk curtain, and the face of a young woman appeared within the dark cleft. Bonn could not help but stare at the oval face with skin the color of dark sand and green slanted eyes the color of emeralds surrounded by thick, black lashes.

  Bonn understood at once that she was a lady of some rank, but still, he did not bow. The Skaard warrior would not bend to any man or woman in this world nor any other. The woman’s red lips curled at his silent show of disobedience.

  Bonn noticed the two heavily armed riders in the rear of the lady’s wagon for the first time. Bonn flinched, his hands instinctually reaching for the ax and long sword on his belt and gripping only air.

  “Tie this one to the back of my wagon,” the green-eyed lady said to the men.

  Bonn shifted his eyes over the wall. He could jump, but the shoreline was rocky. Still, he had survived the fall through the God Gate. Anything was possible. He was about to hurl himself over the side when the first man struck with a lash of a whip across Bonn’s shoulder.

  Grimacing at the searing pain, Bonn turned, grabbed the whip, and pulled the rider from the saddle. The man’s armor clattered as he hit the cobblestones. The other guard, now dismounted, flew at Bonn, gladius waving over his head. Bonn knew the move well and acted accordingly, striking the man’s gut with sidewinding kick and knocking him to the ground.

  “Stop!” hissed the lady. The two guards clambered unsteadily to their feet.

  The lady’s green eyes narrowed into jeweled slits as she looked Bonn up and down. “Who are you?” Her voice was like rustling silk.

  “Bonn Skaard of Kadaar,” Bonn said breathlessly.

  It’s best not to lie in these situations.

  The lady flung back the silk and alighted swayingly from the carriage. A gold-sandaled foot stepped lightly on the gray cobblestones. Her gown of sheer green silk barely concealed the soft curves underneath. Despite her obvious beauty, it was the thing she held in her hands that pulled Bonn’s attention: a bright, yellow snake coiling around her upper arm like a gold bracelet.

  “Do not be afraid,” said the lady. Bonn looked around and noticed a crowd had gathered. He spotted Paló and Miko standing next to their veiled wives. From their concerned expressions, he understood that his situation was not good.

  Again, Bonn stole a glance over the wall. He decided to jump, and he had just shifted his weight to his palms when the lady cried out a word he didn’t understand.

  He felt the fire of the snakebite on the back of his neck and his legs folded under him. The next thing he knew, his head and hands were trapped within a wooden yoke, and he was being whipped from behind, forced to walk behind the lady’s carriage.

  The citizens of Mudárah, including some of Bonn’s new friends from the market, watched cautiously from both sides of the road as the Skaard was forced up a steep, cobblestone road toward the white-domed palace.