//------------------------------//
// Union of Fortune 
// Story: Shaman of the Zaharren 
// by Beware The Carpenter 
//------------------------------//



This news, at the time, took me quite by surprise,
But was it not logical from my father’s eyes? 
It transferred my trouble from him to another
And with luck it would soon delegate me a mother,
To small bundles of happiness which would devour my time;
And thus slow, if not cease, my perilous crimes.
But if I continued, was caught and condemned
No longer his charge, I would not be his problem.

For I was but one daughter of a great family 
He was pledged to protect from any ill atrophy.
He would not allow one member to hazard the whole
And so this one troublesome filly surely must go.

His choice was made easy by that I was lovely to see
And that the bride price paid for me, was substantial indeed.
Besides all of that; I was already eighteen,
Older than most mares at their wedding scene.

When I first heard the news, I found it hard to digest,
But within a few days, I thought myself blessed.
I knew marriage was certain sooner or later,
And of all likely suitors this was the greater.
For my father, in tact, had chosen my life to consign,
To be the newest addition to the royal concubines.

I agreed to this readily as it left me with
Bountiful time in a grand garden forthwith;
To pursue all of my arts, and perfect my techniques
Save for one or two nights, every two or three weeks.
And with the palace and temple, so close in proximity
It would strengthen my faculty to come and go quickly.

My concession was willing; though it came not from the heart
But for the vast time and resources, this life would impart.
Yet greater as well would be danger and peril
If royalties garments became my apparel;
For although a common mare might avoid a harsh sentence,
Should she be found to be dabbling in shamanic senses,
But being royal by marriage, I’d be shown no drop of leniency,
Should my arts be discovered, while I a wife of the regency.
And having fought Raggerock; if caught he’d ensure
That the end of my life would be brought premature.

But the gains outweighed risks, it seemed so, by far,
And so I offered no protest that on the adar
Of my eighteenth year, I became the twenty-third wife
Of the sultan’s new steward who became the man of my life.

My husband was Caleth, for whom it was my place to swoon,
A pegasus zebra, with eyes like the moon.
Who from among Appren’s sons, had been selected most suited,
To succeed his old father once his long life had concluded;
Passing into those places beyond our imagining,
To find out what sentence the Logos declared for that king.

My first fortnight with Caleth, he was mine alone
By his side constantly as our passions were known.
I enjoyed these days thoroughly, from beginning to end,
Speaking with Caleth and seeking a friend.
But what I found puzzled me and by the end I’d concluded
That our roles were quite mutually to keep the other secluded.

I saw in Caleth a heart that sought to do right,
Yet had little knowledge beyond his own life.
This seemed an odd state for one they called king,
Until I saw better his role in all things.
In time it came, that I began to see clearly,
That although king in title, Caleth was merely,
A puppet for Ragarrock, the true lord of land,
Who had defeated my Caleth without making a stand.

For the chief shaman’s council to Caleth from youth,
Had been to seek pleasure fervently, and care little for ruth.
Indulging fine food and music, laughter and sport,
And all sorts of such things which then filled his great courts.
But the chief shank of distraction, it came by little surprise,
Was from the joys of a harem which was so well supplied,
And Caleth, a stallion, could not quite resist,
Kingship forgotten in his harem of bliss.

What a pair he and I made, each married to keep 
The other from making a troublesome bleat;
That each other’s arms; our dissention might smother,
Yet we were not quite ‘a pair’, as there were twenty-two others.

Although my feelings for Caleth could scarce be called love
Were I naive, they would have been mistaken thereof.
So when my facilities became the object of his utilities,
I gladly performed my duties to the very best of my abilities;
And always I’ve cherished the finery to which me Caleth gave
Gold rings for my neck, arm and ears, on which our names are engraved.

When my fortnight with Calelth came to an end
I was moved to the harem; and was not to ascend
To Caleth’s chambers again except by his beckoning
Perhaps once a week, to partake in his wrestling; 
Either alone, or with one to three other mares
With whom Caleth’s zeal, I would be obliged to share.

I strode to avoid, as much as I could,
The typical jealousies of a harem’s sisterhood.
I was somewhat successful but still often speculated
Caleth’s favour to me against those others he’d mated;
And believed, (like the others), that if I was not the first,
I was by no means his last choice to counter his thirst.

The first of my friends was Ayanu, for whom
Desire for Caleth had lost most of their spume.
Not that she didn’t desire the love of her lord
But knew that true love was too much to hope for;
And without the illusion of winning his love
Had no need to battle competitors thereof.
She was seven years older than me, with manners quite mild
And we became quite close once I midwifed her third child.

My second friend’s coming, was just five months after mine
When Caleth mandated her, his twenty-fourth bride.
Two years my junior and brimming with fire
Of angry self-righteousness, like an electrified wire.
She came from a small village, on the great desert plains
Whose family came to the city to purchase some grains.
And when Whinwick was found by Caleth’s wandering eyes
Chose wealth over their daughter and made hasty goodbyes.

Whinwick made clear from her first day in the palace
She was not there by choice, and despised her lord Caleth.
She critiqued and condemned royalties opulence
And even more fiercely; masculine dominance.
In the presence of Caleth, she employed brazen veneer
But elsewhere disparaged him with vituperation sneers.

This made her an outcast, from the rest of the sisters
Made worse by her reckless ambition to argue and bicker.
I sought to befriend her, conceiving that maybe
A way of noble revolt might help the young lady.

I showed her the prowess, I had covertly acquired
Which she took to with awe, and was quite swiftly inspired.
And so I discretely began her training forthwith
Her mind took to it quickly, with ambition and writhe.

In time, engagements with Caleth came to steady routine,
And the days I’d be free became mine to foresee.
By now my friendship with Ayanu was trusting and close,
And so rather than simply instructing Whinwick, I chose
To take back my guise of shamanic mutiny,
And find what the Logos had planned out for me.

Twas no surprise that when Whinwick learned my intention,
No words could convince her to forgo intervention,
But insisted to join me, and test together our wiles
As we unravelled the sinews of Raggarock’s trials.

Ayanu had no wish to join in such tales,
But did agree, hesitantly, to help cover our trails.
To leave without pomp and return unannounced, 
and to give false accounts for our whereabouts.
And to send word by the light of green-flamed lanterns
To alert us if we must make hasty returns.


>>>Treason and Destiny>>>