XVI
Just DesertsIt was a dismal, dry place of sand and heat, of druids and defiance. “Explain,” she demanded of an aide who marched beside her chair, keeping careful step with the porters. Sweat soaked into his head scarf despite the wind she kept blowing over the long column of her retinue.
“It’s as I said, Empress,” as if she hadn’t listened the first time. “They refuse.”
She had sent him ahead into Shoch’s dry valleys, to prime the natives, let them know the Blood Queen would be along to take their magic. And, apparently, they had said no.
“They refused, you tell me.” He nodded, nervous. “What exactly did they say?”
“They said you were welcome. They know exactly who you are, majesty. They said their tradition requires a day of propitiation, regardless. A day and a night,” he corre
