Princess of Amathar by Wesley Allison Page B

service the vehicle. They were wearing bodysuits very much like those the knights wore, though these were light blue rather than black, and they were worn without the tabard over them. Bentar Hissendar turned and spoke to one of them.
    "Send word to the Kurar Ka that we have returned with his grandson." He turned to Norar Remontar.
    "It is best to send word before you go showing up at the door of your home. Give everyone a chance to realize you are alive."
    Norar Remontar replied, but I was too busy looking around to pay much attention to their conversation. The wall over which we had passed to come to this airfield was about two hundred feet tall, and was constructed or at least covered by a copper-colored metal. It looked to be thick enough for a truck to drive over. If fact, as I stared at it, some sort of vehicle running slowly along the top of the wall, passed by. The way it sat on the top, hugging the sides, reminded me of the monorail at Disneyland, though this vehicle was a single unit rather than a train, and had no windows, so therefore did not appear to be a passenger craft.
    "That is the automated sentry," said Norar Remontar, breaking into my observations. "Come, you have much to see."
    Malagor and I joined the prodigal son of Amathar, as he walked across the tarmac to one of the buildings at its edge. Inside, we were greeted by more Amatharians wearing bodysuits in a variety of colors. I asked Norar Remontar about the difference in clothing, and he informed me that different occupations within the city had traditional colors associated with them. Among those colors were black for soldier, light blue for mechanic, white for food preparers or servers, grey for doctors, and red for record keepers. The tabard was essentially an Amatharian uniform, worn by none but soldiers. I was still thinking about this system of color coding, when the familiar black suit with white tabard appeared before me. A young woman, dressed in that very garb, stood with arms folded beside a desk just inside the terminal building. Her tabard bore the same crest that Norar Remontar's did--a flaming sun with wings. When I looked up into her beautiful flawless face, for a moment I was in shock. She was my princess, rather she was Norar Remontar’s sister. But the impression lasted only a moment. This young woman had much shorter hair, a slightly smaller nose, darker skin, and larger, rounder eyes, which made her look much less serious. Admittedly the only time I had seen the Princess was during the height of battle. When the female knight saw Norar Remontar, she smiled broadly and reached out to grasp his hand.
    "Word of your return precedes you, kinsman, though not by much," she said, in a melodic but surprisingly strong voice. "I have just heard the good news, and here you are."
    "You are as beautiful as ever, Vena Remontar," replied my friend. He then turned to Malagor and me.
    "This is Remiant Vena Remontar, my cousin." He used the word for mother's sister's daughter.
    "I am soon to be related to you in other ways as well," the young woman said. "I have agreed to let Tular Maximinos announce our intention to marry."
    "I am glad to hear it," replied Norar Remontar, "though I happen to know you both well enough to know that he is not nearly good enough for you. And I say this only half in jest." Gazing upon the young woman, I had to agree with the prince, at least as far as the external was concerned, for the lady was exceedingly beautiful, so like her cousin, Noriandara Remontar. As I thought this, I began to feel a sadness deep inside my chest, and I once again felt the longing for the woman that I had seen only once in my life. I felt anger, frustration, and pain working its way up from my insides, clawing into my throat, until I was suddenly brought back to the present by my introduction to Vena Remontar, and Malagor's as well. The lady gave us the appropriate acknowledgment for her social inferiors--a polite nod of the head.
    "We shall