Goddess

by Fiona McIntosh

  The great black man straightened and made to leave but not before Herezah glimpsed the triumph sparkling in his dark, cunning eyes. She closed her own momentarily, knowing the eunuch now had something very dangerous over her. When she opened her eyes, the head of the harem was gone.

  Lazar emerged, tendrils of wet hair licking at his shoulders. The fresh shirt he’d donned was damp from a body that he hadn’t dried terribly well. “Zar Boaz.” He bowed. “Valide.” He bowed to her separately, suggesting he was seeing her for the first time this morning, for which she was grateful.

  “Sorry, Lazar, I don’t mean to disturb you,” Herezah began, “I, er, sent Pez away. He was barking like a dog.”

  “I’d already asked him to leave my bathing chamber. Forgive me, Zar, for not being here to meet you.”

  “Lazar, anyone who can persuade my mother to keep house for him has my admiration. You need not apologize. She seems to be a charming farisque for you.”

  “My farisque?” Lazar arched an eyebrow. “I would never level that term at the Valide. She is too generous to me.”

  Herezah laughed. “How many farisques do you know, son, who keep house and have nails in this condition?” she said, holding up her elegant hands.

  The Zar smiled at the levity but only briefly, and Herezah realized that he was not here on a social visit.

  “Zar Boaz, for you to come unannounced must mean something urgent is afoot. How can I help?” Lazar asked, flicking the water from his face.

  “I have grave news. The Galinsean fleet is anchored off the Isles of Plenty. They could be upon us in just a few days.”

  Lazar’s brow furrowed and Herezah could tell he was instantly focused, their indiscretion and what it might mean forgotten for the time being. “How many ships?”

  “Thirty at least, I’m assured. The royal pennon flies atop one.”

  “Does that mean your father is here, Lazar?” Herezah asked.

  Lazar looked thoughtful but could not hide his worry. “Possibly. It could also be one of my brothers, of course, although…” He didn’t finish, but his frown deepened. “There will be more coming. And they will all anchor and take stock for a while.”

  “You’re sure?” Boaz insisted.

  Lazar nodded slowly. “Galinsea never goes to war lightly and only if it is convinced it can win outright. It will make sure by use of numbers, an ability to wear us down by attrition if necessary.” He shrugged. “They would be here understanding that they may dig in at the Isles of Plenty for several months.”

  “Months? Why? We’re at their mercy.”

  “The King is cautious. He is a master strategist, Zar Boaz. He will make no hasty move. He will weigh up every possibility. Right now he’ll be sending out spies, posting lookouts, setting up the lines of communication between where they’re anchored and Romea. He has no reason to rush, trust me. He already knows that the mere presence of the galleys will be sending the Percherese into panic.”

  “Then time is of the essence. Lazar, you cannot be found here,” Boaz urged.

  It was the Valide’s turn to frown. “What do you mean?”

  They ignored her. Lazar shrugged softly. “I can be gone immediately, Highness.”

  The Zar nodded. “The sooner the better. We are fortunate that they held off long enough for you to be well. Will you brief Ghassal before you leave? I’m planning to meet the royal ship.”

  “Let me finish dressing and I shall brief you on how best to handle King Falza.”

  “Fret not, you have schooled me well these last few weeks. I feel I know your father and his weaknesses.”

  “He has plenty. But he should not be underestimated and we are depending on my memories of two decades ago,” Lazar reminded him. “The one stroke of luck of having any of the royals here is that my father and brothers speak Percherese. Not well, be warned, but sufficiently that they can communicate.”

  Boaz nodded. “That’s a relief, then. Without Ana or yourself, I was fretting as to how we’d achieve any sort of diplomatic conversation.”

  “Will one of you please tell me what is going on?” Herezah asked, her eyes darting between the two of them.

  Boaz turned to his mother. “If Lazar is found here, we suspect that he will either be taken by the Galinseans or possibly killed. Either way, we cannot risk that he be discovered–not yet–although they know by now from Marius that he is alive.”

  Herezah fixed Lazar with a stare. “So what do you plan? To flee?”

  Boaz answered for the Spur. “No, Mother. He is following my orders and will be leaving shortly for the desert. He has to find Ana, has to secure the heir of Percheron.”

  “Then I shall go with you,” she demanded.

  Both Spur and Zar shook their heads and spoke in synchrony. “No!”

  “Absolutely not, I forbid it,” Boaz continued. “We nearly lost you once. And anyway, we need you here for diplomatic reasons. I have no wife to wait upon them. You are the highest ranking woman in the palace. I need you.”

  “Lazar is not well enough to travel into the desert. He’s only just–” Herezah knew she was clutching at straws but she wasn’t ready to give him up, not when she had come so close to getting what she most desired.

  “Valide,” Lazar said gently. “You have been more than generous and a nurse who holds no equal in my mind. But I am fit enough to do my Zar’s bidding, to fulfill my duty and promise to him. I will return to my home and I shall write a letter to my father, which I would ask you to pass on to him, Highness.”

  Herezah curtsied to her son. “I shall be in my chamber if you need me, Boaz,” she said, and fled, not even looking at Lazar for fear of losing her composure.

  An awkward pause hung momentarily in the air before Boaz spoke. “My mother, it seems, has grown fond of looking after you, Lazar.”

  The Spur felt himself blush. “I, er, appreciate her ministrations but I’m well enough now to return to my own abode. Thank you for your generosity, my Zar.” He cleared his throat. “Has Pez spoken to you of Ana?”

  “Only that he believes she is alive.”

  Lazar nodded. “With your permission, Majesty, I would like to take Pez with me.”

  “Really?”

  Lazar nodded. “I think he will be a great help to me in finding Ana quickly.”

  “His magics,” Boaz said. “Yes, of course, by all means.”

  “He is staying out of sight at my house but will need to take a few things from his chamber. We will rendezvous at a given point this evening.”

  “How will he reach you?”

  Lazar could hardly tell his Zar that Pez would fly, so he lied. “I shall make arrangements for his safe dispatch to the rendezvous point, but I think we need to have excuses in place for him.” Lazar deliberately found a casual tone. “People like the Grand Vizier or the girls in the harem will be confused as to why he’s been sent away so soon after returning home safely.”

  Boaz nodded. “Yes. I shall think on this. What else do you need?”

  “Nothing, Majesty. I shall have a letter delivered by Ghassal for my father. I hope it helps reassure him that he has no basis to declare war on Percheron.”

  “It is a slim chance, Lazar. He is here with his fleet, eager to sack the city no doubt, which is all the more reason for you to press on with your plans. Ana and my heir must be secured.”

  Lazar nodded. “Then I shall take my leave, Highness, and return shortly for the final briefing.”

  8

  Herezah was fuming, unable to settle down. She’d snapped at everyone who’d ventured near her in the harem and had finally sensibly retired to her own wing, banishing all callers.

  Elza appeared not long after, looking understandably nervous.

  “You certainly have a death wish, woman,” Herezah hurled at the cringing servant.

  “The Grand Vizier has sent a message that he needs to speak with you, Valide. I have told him you are not seeing anyone today but he insists that it’s vital.”

&n
bsp; Despite her mood Herezah could not tolerate any matter of importance slipping by her. She banged down the cup she had been drinking from. “Very well. Get me dressed.”

  Shortly afterward she had moved beyond the harem proper to a private salon where she accepted guests. The Grand Vizier was shown in, escorted by one of the Mutes.

  “Your own personal guard, Tariq?”

  The Grand Vizier bowed, smiling. “I’m sure you’ve heard the news, Valide. I’m just taking precautions. You don’t mind?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Indeed. You look flushed, Valid. Are you well?”

  “If one more person tells me that, I shall have his head cut off,” she fumed, angrier that her emotions were on such public display than for any other reason. She needed to rein them in now; knew it was not at all like her to be so transparent. But then she’d never held Lazar before, never so much as touched him. Little wonder she was flushed; she could still conjure how it felt to hold his sex, taste his mouth. The memory of Salmeo’s cunning smile haunted her and she wondered again how he would make her pay for his knowledge.

  “Forgive me,” the Grand Vizier said, offering a short, clipped bow. “I don’t mean to pry,” he added.

  Those words gave her the answer she was searching for. If there was nothing to pry for, then Salmeo had nothing over her. If she was honest about this episode, then Salmeo had no secret, and she had nothing to hide from anyone, not even her son. Would it really matter to Boaz? It’s true that he might well have objected to finding her draped over Lazar or been angry if they’d progressed to the point of lying down together when he’d walked in on them…that might have provoked a strong reaction. But even so, Boaz might well be shocked but not necessarily unhappy that his Spur and his mother were lovers. He might see it as welcome respite from years of acrimony. Herezah smiled beneath her veil as a tentative plan formulated.

  She looked up to see that the Grand Vizier was watching her carefully. “Something is wrong, isn’t it, Valide?”

  “Yes, something is. You must forgive my distraction, Grand Vizier. I’m sure it’s meaningless in comparison to what Percheron faces. Please continue,” she said, amazing even herself at conjuring up contrived tears.

  “Oh, Highness, please. Do tell me, can I help at all?”

  She shook her head, looked away. “I’m so sorry.” She sniffed, making a show of composing her emotions. “It’s of a personal nature. I’ve been embarrassed this morning and I imagine there will be ramifications.”

  “Embarrassed?” Tariq said, frowning. “By whom?”

  “Grand Master Eunuch Salmeo. He does like to have his little sticks with which to beat us harem members. I’m afraid he has a large club to hold above my head as of this morning and I’m just confused as to how best to handle it. Again, forgive me, Tariq, this is not your problem. You have far more important duties than allowing me to cry on your shoulder.”

  The Grand Vizier was at her side in a second. “Valide,” he said softly. “Salmeo wields far too much power. He is dangerous. And you are the last person who should be in any way under his thumb.”

  “Oh, but I am, Grand Vizier, and there’s nothing anyone can do.”

  “Share the problem, Highness. I am sure I can help you to find a solution. Nothing you say could shock me,” he soothed.

  “Are you sure of that?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “Come out onto the balcony. Elza likes to eavesdrop.”

  He followed her eagerly, shaking his head at the Mute not to follow. She wrung her hands absently. “Oh, can I offer you some refreshment? Forgive my manners. My mind is certainly addled this morning,” she said, affecting a soft laugh of confusion.

  “No, I need nothing, Valide. Now tell me and let’s sort this out.”

  “It’s a delicate matter, Grand Vizier. I’m not sure how to approach it, other than to be direct.”

  “I appreciate candor, Majesty,” he replied, clearly keen to put her at her ease.

  Herezah hesitated only for a blink. The Grand Vizier leaned forward and she hesitated no more, took a deep breath in mock fear, ensuring that he understood her reluctance. “Spur Lazar and I have become lovers. We didn’t mean for it to happen, Tariq, but over these last few moons that I’ve cared for him, something special has developed between us. Today, Salmeo interrupted us at a most delicate moment.”

  The Grand Vizier rocked back on his heels, obviously shocked. Herezah saw the disbelief in his gaze. “I know you find it hard to put us two together but–”

  “Hard? Impossible, more like, Majesty. Anyone could be forgiven for believing the two of you detested each other enough that you would happily stick knives into the other’s gut. I understand you have a long-held fascination for the man but it was also my belief that you enjoyed punishing him.”

  She shrugged, even allowed a coy smile to play on her lips. “I know. It’s a shock for me, too. But there’s no explaining love, is there, Tariq?”

  “Love?” There was an audible intake of breath. “Are you serious, Majesty?”

  She had turned away from him as she spoke but now looked back over her shoulder, a contrite expression on her face that she knew her eyes would reflect. “It’s probably wrong and I’ve tried to hide it through that opposition toward the Spur you speak of, but I’ve always felt this way. The fascination you mentioned was always genuine.” She smiled inwardly to see that the Grand Vizier was, for once, rather lost for words, and waited for him to rediscover his voice.

  “How serious is this affair, Valide? Where do you expect it to go?”

  “Nowhere, Tariq, absolutely nowhere,” she replied, lacing her tone with resignation. She flounced into a seat. “That’s part of the problem. It was never anything that could go anywhere; we both knew it, but it was ours. And in this palace, Tariq, you of all people should know that shiny, bright moments are few and far between. We kept it to ourselves and we enjoyed it for as long as we could. It was not meant to be shared with anyone else and certainly wasn’t intended to hurt anyone–how could it?”

  Tariq shook his head. “I don’t see who you can offend.”

  “Exactly! But Lazar is a private man, a mysterious man, as we’ve all discovered,” she said, dismay now in her voice. “To be found like that by the chief eunuch–of all people–has distressed him. It distresses me. Salmeo will find a way to use it against us. To blackmail me, perhaps.”

  “With your son, you mean?”

  “Well, yes.” She nodded sorrowfully. “I don’t want to hurt Boaz. He loved Joreb.”

  “I don’t think he’d expect you to remain celibate–you’re still so young and…” He struggled for the right word, couldn’t find it, and hurried on. “And anyway he has only the highest respect for Lazar.”

  “I know, but it’s the manner in which Salmeo will see to it that Boaz learns this secret. You know how cunning he is.”

  “I do. Hmm, well, this is a prickly situation, Valide. You’ve quite taken my breath away. I don’t mean to offend you, but the Spur always seemed so smitten with Ana. Surely you noticed?”

  Herezah felt her temper flare. “Noticed? Of course I noticed. I’d have to be as dim as the dwarf not to notice, Tariq. But that’s it, you see. Because I refused his advances, he used Ana against me.”

  The Grand Vizier’s mouth opened and shut. Again she waited. “I noticed he was very cool toward the Zaradine on our journey,” he finally said. Herezah nodded. “And he chose you over her. He risked his life to save us.”

  “To save me, Tariq. Your life is expendable. Do you believe Lazar cared whether you lived or died? It was me he came for, fought for.”

  “You’re right. I never understood why.”

  She demurred with a soft sigh. “Well, I think you do now. He’s told my son it was about duty, and it’s true that he has never come to terms with leaving Ana behind, her being the Zaradine and so close to Boaz’s heart,” she lied smoothly. “Did you know that Boaz is sending him back into the d
esert to find her?”

  “I did, Valide, and I think it’s important that Percheron have its Zaradine safe, particularly if an heir exists.”

  “So that’s my dilemma, Tariq,” she said, ignoring his sentiments and bringing their conversation back to her needs rather than Ana’s. “I’m frightened.”

  “Well, we can’t have that, Majesty. At this level you should fear no one but your Zar and his enemies.”

  “What do you suggest, Tariq?” she asked eagerly, already knowing, already counting on him suggesting the very solution she had been leading him toward.

  “I think perhaps I should talk with your son. Man to man. He is not very approachable right now and I respect his reasons for it, but I shall find a way to let him know what has occurred. I will even suggest that the Grand Master Eunuch is threatening to use this against you. If the Zar knows and doesn’t overreact–and in fact turns a blind eye–I see no future for Salmeo’s cunning in this regard.”

  Herezah’s stomach unclenched. No man was any match for her guile, not even the Grand Vizier. She smiled gratefully. “Oh, that’s such an inspired notion, Tariq. You are clever! Thank you. I would be so, so grateful if you would do that for me.”

  Instead of smiling graciously as she’d anticipated, the Grand Vizier frowned. “How grateful, Highness?”

  “Pardon?”

  “How will you show this gratitude?”

  “Zarab save me! What are you asking, Tariq?”

  “Not what you think, Valide. A simple matter of exchange. I do you one favor, you give me one in return.”

  Her eyes narrowed above her veil. “What is it you want, Tariq?”

  “I want your son gone from the palace.”

  “Gone?”

  “Away from the Galinsean threat.”

  “Oh” she said, understanding with a fresh frown. “He refuses to flee, you know that.”

  “That’s a dangerous situation. Until we have confirmation of an heir, your son is being flippant with the Crown of Percheron.”

  “Flippant?” she asked, surprised by the Grand Vizier’s attitude. “I am proud of his courage. He is prepared to die for his realm.”