[center][h2]Saga 2: The Moon Thief[/h2][/center]
[hr]

It was a sweltering night in Xarame, but then all nights were sweltering in that desert city of rough yewn sandstone and faded adobe. Xarame crouched where the rocky foothills of the Khorhaja began to shoulder their way out of the sands of the Great Shem, eventually rising to block the way to distant Koth far to the north, save for the few passes on which caravans chanced themselves against bandits and storms for the hope of riches and wealth on one side or the other. The seven spires of the Caliph's palace rose into the moonlight, surrounded by the shorter towers of the cities hungry emirs. Many of those emirs would have built towers to dwarf those of the Caliph, but the difference between wealth and power was a sharp thing in Xarame, in ancient times an emir had tried to build such a tower only to find himself ground into the mortar of the palace while still living, or so the story went. Beyond the palace the city sprawled to its mighty stone walls and its crowning parapets like a wave that struck the edge of a great ocean. The buildings were less grand, slums in some places, but they bustled with trade. Textiles from Stygia, perfumes from Kush, gold and silk from Turan and the lands beyond came to Xarame to be exchange for iron work from Aquilonia, Nemedian wines and even ice diamonds and amber from distant Vannaheim. The great pulsing arteries of trade had made Xarame rich beyond the dreams of the humble shepeards who had founded the city in eons passed, so that it was said among the nations that even the beggars of Xarame ate of gold plate and bathed with frankincense. That wealth had bought with it a paranoia that others might seek to take what the city claimed as its own and so when rumor reached the Caliph that a great thief had come to Xareme to steal the Moon Stone which was his greatest treasure he was naturally concerned.

"I have thwarted many such thieves mighty Caliph," the Stygian Woman proclaimed. Her name was Sythemis and she was a great beauty, round of hip and bosom with jet black hair that shone like lake water under starlight, with the full lips and dark eyes of ancient Stygia. In other lands she was known as the asp or the sand viper for a rumored fondness for poisons and supposed sorcerous arts. Like many she had answered the Caliphs call to protect his treasure until the great thief was apprehended. The Caliph leaned forward on his thrones, the thousand colors of his silken stole shimmering and the gold chain around his neck clicking as he did so.

"You are a woman," he said sternly, "how can a woman accomplish such things?" There was a general murmer of approval from his courtiers, each draped in his own silk and jewelry, though each careful not to rival the Caliph, lest they find themselves in that jealous princes ill graces. They were not best pleased that the Caliph had chosen to bring in outsiders, even though the implication that their own guards might be corrupt was far from unfounded.

"A man looks at another man as a threat," Sythemis said, taking no insult, "but what threat can a woman be?" The question had a playful edge, but as she spoke she lifted her hand and pinched the fingers together. The gesture looked innocent, save for the fact that the shadow cast on the wall of the opulent throne room was not that of a woman closing her fingers, but of a snake striking across the shadowed wall. The Caliph sat back, considering the beautiful Stygian woman in her simple robes of white linen and her serpentine wristlets of polished copper.

"Very well," he said after a moment, "you will bring me the thief before the moon is full and I shall reward you with your weight in rubies." The words bought a mutter of low disapproval from the gathered nobles but the Caliph once again held up his hand.

"If you fail to do so however, you will become my slave concubine for as long as I will it," he decreed. Sythemis lowered her eyes to the tiled floor of the throne room.

"As the Caliph wishes."