Raj entered in a rush, holding his phone pressed to his ear. “Exalted Father! The rebel Kurt has surrendered himself!”
Kalidasa and Giulietta took to their feet. My hands froze on the guitar. I looked up to meet Marco’s astonished eyes. The chief thumped his fist on the table and laughed out loud. Golden dishes and cutlery jumped, making a clatter.
Giulietta flashed a triumphant smile at Kalidasa. “My lord, this is indeed a sign from above.”
“The Mother be praised!” The chief cleared his throat and turned to Raj. “Tell Rosnan that in view of the boy’s cooperation, Kurt may remain in his elder Philip’s custody until his trial. Then call the others. We will hold a Grand Council in a week’s time.” Raj repeated the order into the phone. Kalidasa grabbed Giulietta and planted a slobbering kiss on her. “So my dove, we shall proceed as you suggest. Whatever did I do without you?”
I shot a questioning glance at Marco. He shrugged. Giulietta extracted herself from Kalidasa’s arms and clapped her hands. “Why has the music stopped? Play!”
We continued with our ballad. Marco’s rich baritone harmonized with my tenor, but my mind wasn’t on the song. Giulietta sat with a smirk on that flawless face of hers. What on earth did the bitch have up her sleeve? And what did the rebel leader have up his? Why on earth would he give himself up without a fight? A month had passed since he’d defeated Gaius, yet no rats had attacked the compound in all this time. I couldn’t figure out why. The rats had proven themselves a potent force. Was Loki biding his time until he launched an all-out offensive on the chief?
Kalidasa ordered all his alphas to the compound to discuss the rebel Kurt’s fate. They arrived with their entourages, throwing the household into an uproar and making a lot more work for the servants. The placed teemed with Immortyls, and it was only going to get more crowded in a week’s time. Marco and I served in the smaller council chamber, which despite its name was a rather commodious room with high ceilings and appointments keeping with the opulence of the rest of the palace. The alphas sat in high-backed chairs, most dressed in western fashion, but a few wore traditional garments. My brother adept and I passed among them, offering food and drink.
Kalidasa opened the discussion with a sweeping gesture of his hand. “My sons, we have matters of great import to decide. Our operatives have been monitoring these rat groups in the last months. They outnumber us three to one, and thanks to Kurt’s efforts they are now well armed. We have a very dangerous problem on our hands and have given much consideration to its solution. Raj will outline our plan to you.”
Raj took a long drag on his cigarette and then stubbed it out in an ashtray. Rising from his chair, he nodded around to the others. “Kurt was well trained by Brovik in the craft of managing an Immortyl territory and has shown that he’s more than capable of leadership. It is the Exalted Father’s wish to invest the rebel with eldership, so that he may keep the rats under control for us. Make him, not Philip, elder of the Northman’s house.”
The lot of them looked like Li Cheng’s school of koi with their mouths all hanging open and eyes round. Rosnan nearly spilled his goblet of blood down the front of his traditional kurta. “You can’t be serious?”
Another alpha leaned forward in his chair. “But he is a slave—the rule applies to alphas only.”
“If he did indeed kill Brovik there is precedent in the code to give him eldership,” Raj replied.
Rosnan recovered himself and appealed to Kalidasa. “Exalted Father, with all due respect, this will lead to revolution. The rats respect no one but this upstart. We should kill him as an example.”
Kalidasa held out his cup to Marco for a refill and shook his head. “That would not be prudent. It would make a martyr out of him, and the rats would burn us all to the ground.” He took a healthy swig of blood and went on, “Kurt was Brovik’s de facto alpha. He did very well for him. With Kurt in a position of power he’ll be able to keep the rats in check and pay tribute to cover losses incurred by the houses.”
Rosnan’s lips stretched into a skeptical gash. “The others won’t go for it. How can we possibly win the necessary votes?”
Raj bowed to the chief. “Exalted Father, if I may?” Kalidasa made a rotating motion with his hand. Raj continued, “Liu wields great influence over trade in the Far East. Without his favor and government ties, many Immortyl businesses couldn’t operate. If he votes in Kurt’s favor and wields his influence over the elders, other houses will follow suit. I propose we take a bolder step. We will designate North America as Kurt’s territory and a dumping ground for troublesome rats.”
“What do we give the elders in return?” Rosnan asked.
“We will divvy up Gaius’ and Brovik’s territories in Western Europe among them.”
The alphas cast uncertain glances toward the second. I imagine they looked to him to supply the sole voice of reason that the chief might heed. Tension tightened their faces and postures.
Rosnan rubbed his pointy chin, as if he weighed Kalidasa’s plan. “But will Liu agree?”
Kalidasa chuckled and laid down his trump card. “If we offer him something he covets very much.”
All eyes turned to where I worked in the background, handing round a tray of tidbits. Marco relieved me of the burden. This was it. My days at court were numbered. What little remained of my heart shattered. No longer would I look on Sandhya’s face.
“Shardul, come here!” the chief called out.
I prostrated myself. In the past months I’d become well acquainted with the pattern of the floor tiles beneath his throne. I’d memorized every speckle and variation in the glaze.
“Rise, boy.” I got to my feet, donning the passive mask of the adept to hide my pain. The chief fixed a stern look on me. “You will employ your arts to influence Lord Liu and then enter into his service. This is the Mother’s will. Understand? Our very survival depends on it.”
Blood roared in my ears. My insides went hollow, as if my soul had been sucked out in a vacuum. I took a deep breath and steadied my voice. “Yes, Exalted Father.”
“You will do all in your power to bring him over to our side and secure the vote.”
“Of course, Exalted Father, the Mother’s will be done—with my master’s consent, of course.”
“Whatever it takes.” Raj didn’t even meet my eyes. He’d severed the bond between us at his mistress’ bidding. His gaze fixed on a distant, glittering point where he’d pocket ten million or so in gold, and I’d be out of his and Giulietta’s way on the road to power.
Kalidasa waved me off. I bowed back into my corner and busied myself with clearing away. The chief heaved himself to his feet with Marco’s assistance. He raised his eyes to heaven and chanted an invocation of the Goddess. Marco and I intoned a response. Kalidasa leveled his gaze on his retainers. “My sons, swear to me now that you will uphold Mother Kali’s will.” He extended his arms outward, as if to gather them all into his embrace.
The alphas, one by one, passed by the throne and bowed, swearing allegiance. Raj, being the youngest of their number, was last. He bent his head to give his fealty, and it was done. The rebel Kurt would be raised up, and I would be sold off, without a thought, for political gain. The feelings of a slave didn’t count when the very fiber of Immortyl society was so close to unraveling. But did it really matter when the woman I loved was eternally bound to the man I hated? Sandhya was the product of centuries of tradition and belief. A woman like her would never throw over everything she believed in for an irreverent Westerner.
* * * *
All of court was thrown into preparation for the upcoming Grand Council. Aside from rehearsing the ballet we performed together, Sandhya and I had little contact. She refused to talk to me when we rehearsed, other than to correct my steps or gestures. Giulietta looked in often and made suggestions of how our entertainments might be improved. The queen elect was in her element, orchestrating the spectacle to operatic proportion. The council would encompass three nights, the fir
st being a welcoming banquet and her coronation. The second would be Kurt’s trial. The outcome of the third depended on Li Cheng.
The heads of the remaining eleven houses descended on court with their alphas and entourages. According to Giulietta’s orders, the dozen adepts belonging to Kalidasa and his alphas were pressed into service to attend the assembled elders. The ashram overflowed with gossip and excitement over the coming trial. Music filled the air. You couldn’t walk across the garden without running into someone practicing his or her signature song or dance. A Grand Council usually only convened once a century, and it was the adepts’ time to shine. I went about my business, not sharing their sense of anticipation. Without hope of Sandhya’s love, life lay like an unending road through a wasteland.
Everyone had an opinion of the rat question. Most adepts were aghast at Kurt’s audacity and disobedience, considering his rebellion an act of heresy against the Mother and a threat to the established order of the Immortyl universe. I hadn’t yet caught a glimpse of the upstart. He’d been locked inside his elder’s suite, and a half-dozen dogs stood guard. However, Avijit was appointed to serve Philip, the acting elder of Kurt’s house, for the duration of his stay. This was in order for the adept to glean what information he could and report back to Giulietta.
At first, Avijit acted somewhat miffed with the assignment, complaining to Marco and me that it was an insult to his position, because Philip was in disgrace over this affair. Then lo and behold, on the night of the welcoming banquet, Avijit waltzed into Marco’s room and informed us that Philip had brought with him a new-made alpha, his counselor and apparent lover, and had eschewed the adept’s services.
Avijit flaunted gold-embroidered silks adorned with the rubies Kalidasa had given him on his debut many years ago. He sat cross-legged on Marco’s bed, gushing like a schoolgirl. “He is well-mannered and quiet—not at all what you might think—so learned and knowledgeable of our art. But there is no denying his power. He commands respect. When he speaks, it is as if he has known you all his life and you are his dearest friend.” Avijit sighed. “His eyes are deep and blue as the sea.”
Marco rolled his own deep blue eyes. “So, did you do him?”
Avijit’s cheeks flushed red as his silks. “My mistress bade me to give him a message to meet with her.”
“How is he going to manage that?” I asked.
“After the banquet, I am to lead him through the tunnels to her chamber.”
Marco needled him. “So she’s going to do him?”
“Of course not—I am to go to his bed after I lead him back to his rooms.” He sighed again.
Marco scowled. “Santa Maria, are you bewitched?”
I shushed Marco. “What’s the blonde bitch up to?”
Avijit shrugged. “All I know is that she gave Kalidasa the idea of making Kurt elder. Apparently she wants something from him and needs to keep Kurt alive to get it. God knows what.”
I grimaced. “Bloody intrigue—I’m sick of it.”
Marco clapped my shoulder. “Ah, la puttana will be out of your hair soon.”
Avijit rose from Marco’s bed, arranging his silks. “We’d better get to the banquet hall. Giulietta will bleed us all if we’re late.”
We hurried to the hall—which had been hung with garlands of flowers and swathed in damasks—and took our places. Elders and their entourages filtered in. Several dogs stood around the room and outside the compound for security, just in case the rats decided to attempt a raid. The most attractive common slaves waited to serve the alphas’ needs.
Every head turned when Philip entered, dressed in a kind of black uniform. He conferred with a man with longish fair hair, decked out in similar fashion. I reckoned this to be the counselor. Avijit hovered over them as they took their seats. The prisoner, of course, remained under guard in Philip’s rooms.
Li Cheng entered with his second, Wang. Five other alphas followed close behind. I bowed low to the elder and led him to his seat. Sandhya floated by, looking so lovely in her orange silks that I thought I’d die from the pain of not touching her. She turned her warmest smile on Wang, who pinched her cheek. My blood boiled. She should have been assigned to an elder; the other alphas had to make do with common slaves. This distasteful pairing was all part of Kalidasa wooing the house of Liu to his side.
Li Cheng sat dignified and elegant in silver grey, his braid wound into a knot at the back of his head. I leaned over to ask about his beverage preference. His hand clasped mine. I noted the dragon crest on his ring. The similar dragon hanging over my chest grew heavy, like a chain representing my enslavement. I poured for him, presenting the goblet with a ceremonial bow. My face fell into a pleasing semblance of a smile. The elder’s eyebrows rose. Damn, he knew that something troubled my mind.
Kalidasa entered in full regalia, with an ice-blue gowned Giulietta on his arm, followed by his six alphas. The guests rose and bowed until he was seated. Marco, resplendent in azure, moved to attend the chief. Raj flipped his coattails and sank into his place. Naveen pushed in the chair. The poor mite fidgeted in his brocade suit and turban.
Kalidasa signaled the banquet to begin. Etiquette prescribed strict behavior for such a gathering. No boys or girls sat with any guest. On this pompous occasion, decorum was the word. Course after course followed, blood based dishes, roasted meats and fruits, all served on the finest gilt porcelain. An overpowering aroma of spices and iron filled the air, making the head swim. The conversation was subdued, with elders and alphas speaking in hushed tones to one another. I hovered behind Li Cheng, anticipating his needs, always there with a new delicacy or to fill his glass. He favored me with the warmest of smiles, earning surreptitious glances from fellow elders. Immortyl hearing catches even the most quiet of comments. Among the babble of the assembly, I picked out snatches of gossip concerning Li Cheng’s infatuation with me.
When the meal ended, common slaves cleared away the dishes and refilled goblets. We adepts took our places before the throne for the coronation, offering prayers for the rani. I prayed the bitch would get what she had coming to her. Kalidasa led Giulietta to the dais. She settled upon the throne with a triumphant smile, holding her head high. The chief took a diadem from a cushion held by Avijit and placed it on her pale hair. He swept his arm around, presenting her to the crowd. The assembly broke into polite applause. Smiles around the hall looked forced. I could only conjecture what the elders thought of their new queen. Voices lifted in songs of praise for the newly crowned rani. Kalidasa sat beside her and signaled for the entertainment to begin.
The program offered a variety of traditional songs and dances from every corner of India. I waited behind a curtain, dressed in an orange dhoti, my bare torso loaded down with enough bracelets and necklaces to trim a Christmas tree. The swirl of color and discordant shrill of the music bore into my head and made it ache. Sandhya, clad in sheer veils that matched my costume, waited beside me. Her warmth and scent drove me mental. My finger couldn’t resist trailing over the henna design coiling around her hands. She slapped the offending digit away and took her place out on the floor for our ballet.
All the passion I couldn’t express in real life I poured into that dance. Forbidden caresses found an outlet in my gestures. She couldn’t escape my eyes when we danced, and I wondered if the ardent gaze she fixed on mine conveyed emotion denied her in reality. Her lips parted, as in ecstasy, when I lifted her into my arms and into the air.
There are moments when an artist knows a performance has transcended the usual. You feel a sort of energy flowing between the performers’ bodies. It evokes the divine. I’d never really bought into the religious aspect, but I couldn’t deny the power zapping the room.
The hall broke into enthusiastic applause when Sandhya and I finished our ballet. They took to their feet, calling out our names. We took our bows, both a bit flustered by the reaction. Our eyes met for a moment before we left the floor. Deep sadness filled hers. I reached out for her hand, but she fled to t
he woman’s dressing area. Smarting, I went behind the curtained cubicle set up for the male performers and wiped sweat from my body.
Marco clasped my hand. “You were magnificent out there, never better.”
I thanked him and donned my silks, touching up makeup and hair before taking my place at the table behind Li Cheng. He beckoned me to him and leaned over to speak into my ear. “You were splendid tonight. One of the greatest performances I have ever witnessed, in all of my many years. Kalidasa wants a word before I retire tonight. Wait for me in my chamber.”
I bowed and went off to prepare, stopping to order his preferred refreshments from the kitchens. Once in his chamber, I set down my chest and arranged the various enhancements he favored on a bedside table. Turning back the silken covers, I sprinkled a soothing essence on the sheets. A large mirror stood next to the bed; an adept must always look his or her best. The exotic creature reflected there preened and fussed. I started at a touch on my shoulder.
Li Cheng appeared in the glass, an appreciative look in his eyes. He hadn’t made a sound. “You look magnificent as always,” he said.
“You flatter me again, Li Cheng.”
He turned me to face him. “How much do you understand of what is going on right now?”
“Kalidasa needs you to influence the vote because it’s politically advantageous to him to make Kurt an elder.”
“You were instructed to apply all your arts to persuade me?”
“Yes.”
“I’m told you’ve accepted my offer.”
“Yes.”
His face creased with sympathy. “Was this your idea—or are you just being offered as a bribe?”
I hesitated. “It’s Giulietta’s idea—but I’m willing, Li Cheng. There’s nothing but pain for me here.”
“It’s gone badly for you since we last met?”
I nodded, the brand on my shoulder an aching reminder. Li Cheng enfolded me in his arms. At least I didn’t have to pretend with him. He realized my options were limited. Life with him wouldn’t be bad. Time would heal a wounded heart, I supposed.
My Fearful Symmetry Page 21