Queen of Kings - Maria Dahvana Headley [89]
“At last, the father landed on the sands of Libya, where the young man’s tribe was camped. He swept their camels into the air, and threw their tents from end to end of the desert. He strew their possessions across the mountains and tossed their serpents into the sky. Later, they would rain down, poisonous, mysterious, and full of rage, onto the heads of a neighboring tribe.
“The Western Wind turned his wrath onto the wells of the Psylli, and directed his hot breath into them until they were dry. The young man’s tribe was left without water, and they spoke angrily to their wayward son. He knew he’d hurt his people by falling in love with the Western Wind’s daughter, but this did not stop him from loving her.”
A soft breeze began to blow into the emperor’s windows, rattling the shutters and easing them open.
“The young man refused to give up his bride. Her father snatched her from his arms and took her back to his home at the edge of the world. The young man spoke with his tribe and convinced them to go to war. Though they were angry with him for inciting the rage of the Western Wind, they were angrier still at the wind, for drying their wells and for stealing a rightful bride from one of their own.”
Augustus thrashed in his sleep as the breeze passed over his bed, tearing his coverlet from his body and chilling him to the bones. Usem looked up and smiled as the breeze passed over his face.
“The Western Wind had stolen not only a bride but a baby, for the daughter of the Western Wind was with child. The tribe of the snake people armed themselves and rode out across the desert, with their serpents beside them. They rode day and night and never saw the Western Wind’s daughter. The Western Wind himself tormented them with sandstorms, pushing waves of dust up over the desert so that they engulfed the warring tribe, their mounts, and their serpents. Convinced that he had buried them so deeply they would never recover, the Western Wind went off to his other business at the far side of the world. The warriors and their serpents dug themselves up out of the sand and rode on until they reached the world’s edge.”
The window was opened entirely to the elements now, and the wind blew in, tossing the curtains, ruffling the scrolls. It blew into the emperor’s mouth, and out again. It perched on the Psylli’s shoulder.
“They stood looking out across the nothing that awaited them there, and far in the distance, balancing on a platform of the thinnest air, they could see the lighted castle of the Western Wind. In the doorway of the castle, the young man could just see his bride, her hair twirling around her, her eyes flashing lightning. She was tied to the castle wall. The young man despaired of reaching her. He did not know how to walk on air, and the distance was too far for him to leap. His bride’s voice, however, was light enough to travel across the distance between them, and she whispered into his ear that she loved him.
“The young man thought hard for a moment, and then he called to his serpents. They twined themselves together, tail to throat and throat to tail. Soon, the young man and his tribe had a coiled rope of snakes as long as the distance from the edge of the world to the