Goddess

by Fiona McIntosh

  Pez looked at Boaz, shocked. “Do you mean would I choose you over Lazar.”

  “For instance,” Boaz replied, his firm gaze unwavering.

  The dwarf was unsure how to answer his Zar. There was definitely a correct answer required here and he had to give the obvious one that the Zar wanted to hear. “Boaz, I would choose you. Although I’m deeply hurt that you would need to ask. May I ask, Highness, what precisely is bothering you about my friendship with Ana and Lazar?”

  “I’m not sure. I wonder how far you’d go to protect a friend of yours.”

  “I have so few, Boaz, that if any of you were threatened in any way, I would do anything to protect you.” Pez felt his initial surge of irritation turn to anger. He didn’t understand Boaz’s convoluted attack at all.

  “You would lie?”

  “I have lied for you many times.”

  “Ah, but you have lied only to others who think you are insane. You would not lie to Lazar or Ana about me.”

  “No, but that’s because they love you. They are loyal to you. We all are.”

  “But you would protect one of your few friends at any cost?”

  “Yes!”

  “That is all I asked,” Boaz said, infuriatingly calm. “Now, what about the impostor?”

  Pez shrugged. There was nothing more to say. He had tried and he had failed to convince the Zar that his Vizier meant no good. Iridor must face Maliz alone–it was always so. “We’ll worry about that once we have Zaradine Ana safely back by your side, Highness.”

  Seemingly satisfied, the Zar nodded and the atmosphere between them switched from a sense of being at odds to conspiratorial. “Pez, did you hear about the Spur and the Valide being discovered this morning?”

  Confused by the switch, Pez nevertheless grinned. “I did.” He waited, needed to see how Boaz handled the news and precisely how much he knew.

  Boaz was suddenly back to being a young man, barely out of childhood, sharing an amusing conversation. He screwed up his face, as if smelling something bad. “I can’t believe that Lazar has apparently been lusting for my mother all of this time.”

  Pez clamped down the surprise that rose instantly; where had that notion come from? He kept his expression open. “Neither can I,” he replied truthfully.

  “So you didn’t know either?”

  “This is the first I’m hearing of it. Lazar did tell me about an incident this morning but we didn’t have time to discuss it.”

  “Hmm,” Boaz mused.

  “Does it anger you, Majesty?”

  “Anger me?” Boaz asked, surprised. “No, I don’t think so. I’m just shocked that Lazar hid his ardor so well from all of us who are close to him.”

  “Indeed.”

  “If anything, I suppose I should be quietly glad, to tell the truth.”

  “Because of Ana?”

  Boaz’s eyes narrowed as they regarded Pez. “You know me too well, dwarf. Anyone else would leap to the conclusion that I’d just be glad the bitterness between them was done with. I did warn Ana before she left that she would be scrutinized, that her behavior had to be exemplary.”

  “And it was, Highness. You have no cause for anxiety on that. Lazar behaved impeccably at all times as well, and I think any quiet concern you may have held in this regard is unfounded,” he lied, unhappily.

  “So I hear. I would share my concern only with you, Pez.”

  “Of course. And I would speak of it to no one.”

  “Leave now, Pez. If you are worried about Tariq, best you are gone from the palace to your rendezvous point with Lazar. I have a meeting with the Spur and the Grand Vizier shortly.”

  “We shall bring her back, Majesty,” Pez said.

  Boaz reach out and hugged him. “If it’s true that she carries a son in her belly, then you must bring them both back to me.” There was something in Boaz’s voice that stirred a curiosity in Pez but he couldn’t think about it now. He had to escape the palace, be gone from here, into the relative safety of the desert. Percheron would have to hold its own without its Spur or its royal buffoon. They were facing a far greater battle.

  10

  Ghassal of the Percherese Protectorate was providing the Zar with thrice-hourly reports. Boaz had just learned that all was quiet at the Isles of Plenty. The Galinsean fleet was anchored, the sailors relaxed, and there was still no sign of which royal of most interest was aboard the ship.

  The threat of war felt all-consuming and yet something more dire had been nagging at his mind for months. It was a matter he had given himself plenty of time to think on; to see it from every angle and to be sure that the decision he had secretly reached was the right one…the only one. “Send in my mother,” he said to Bin. “I shall take quishtar with her on the balcony.”

  “Yes, Majesty.”

  Herezah was shown into the chamber and dutifully bowed. Boaz took her hand. “I’m sorry to have kept you. I needed to bid Pez farewell. Not that he understands.” He gestured to the balcony. “Come, let us talk outside. I hear you wish to speak to me on a matter of importance.”

  “I do, son. Thank you for seeing me at such short notice.”

  “Make yourself comfortable,” he offered once they were outside, soaking up the cool drafts of air soaring up the hill from the bay.

  “I prefer to stand, if you don’t mind?”

  Boaz shrugged. His mother looked nervous and he could understand why, considering what she was here to discuss with him. He would let her anxiety build a little further. It was valuable to have her coming to him so humble. “All is quiet with the Galinsean fleet. I wonder what they’re waiting for?”

  “Do you believe the Galinseans are eager for war, Boaz?”

  “They’re here, aren’t they?”

  “No. They’re at the Isles of Plenty. There’s a significant difference. It’s not a declaration of war. To me it’s a declaration of strength; it’s them making clear that they will not be dismissed. If they were irrationally seeking war, we would already be dead. Someone is giving us time to make diplomatic contact.”

  Boaz nodded. “Now, why don’t I think like that?” He meant it lightly but his mother took his comment seriously.

  He saw her visibly relax as she slipped into her role as counselor. “Only a woman does. Women do not take pride in having their sons and daughters slaughtered in the name of a realm. Trust me, a mother will always seek a peaceful solution if precious lives can be saved.” The servant arrived with a tray of quishtar and its accoutrements. She smiled at Boaz. “I’ll pour, darling. Send him away.”

  Boaz obliged. “Do you think I should go to the Isles of Plenty?”

  Herezah began her elegant ritual pouring of the quishtar. “No, that would seem too humble. But someone should. Someone senior should make contact. We achieve nothing by staring at each other across the waters. They are obviously being very patient, biding their time, but I don’t think we should make them wait too long before initiating discourse.” She handed him a beautiful porcelain cup from Joreb’s collection.

  “Thank you,” he said, taking the quishtar and sipping. “I shall think on what you say.” He appreciated her wisdom–she was at her best when playing politics. He decided to put her out of her misery swiftly. “So, Mother, you are here to plead your case regarding your liaison with Lazar. Let me say now that–”

  “No, Boaz. I am not here to do any such thing,” she interrupted politely but firmly.

  He was blowing the steam from his quishtar but looked up at her sharply. Her veil was removed and there was no sign of nervousness in her expression. Had he misread her? “I thought–”

  “Yes, son. I suppose you would and I shall certainly explain myself on that score but I wasn’t aware that I needed your sanction on whom I choose to spend my time with. Let me add, though, that I do appreciate your blessing and seek it now.”

  Boaz looked back at her, stunned. She was not here to cringe or ask for his indulgence, not even here to plead for his help against Salmeo
? “I must say I am surprised about your new relationship.”

  “But not disappointed, I hope?”

  “No,” he had to admit. “I didn’t think you and Lazar cared that much for each other.”

  “Boaz, I loved your father but that love was founded on pragmatism–as was his regard for me. We were an exceptionally good choice for each other and we were happy considering our situation. If I had not belonged to the harem, if I had been able to choose a man to spend my life with, having not known you or your father, I would have chosen Lazar. That’s the truth. But I couldn’t have him, and as you know all too well, the harem is the most frustrating prison of all. I took those frustrations out on Lazar, not realizing for a moment that he was harboring similar feelings.”

  Boaz shook his head. “I can’t believe it. You are both so hostile to each other.”

  “Love and hate are separated by a hair’s breadth, son. I hope you never have to discover this at a cost to your own heart. I was never disloyal to your father and it’s only now that I can indulge my own desire, now that I have reached the right status and am no longer important to the palace hierarchy. You have a wife now and she is, we suspect, already pregnant. My years as Valide are numbered.” He thought she was being overly dramatic and made a soft sound of disgust but it seemed Herezah was earnest, as she ignored him and continued: “It is time for me to take my pleasures instead of being so focused on aiding you. You will always have my undying support but I must step back now.”

  Boaz could barely believe what he was hearing. “You want to retreat to your chambers, to have no official role?”

  “I didn’t say that, son. But I will no longer expect or demand any official duties, other than whatever you require of me. I genuinely nursed Lazar–none of that was a ruse. And as I did so I realized how much I have felt for him. I presume he experienced a similar epiphany. I’m just sorry that we were discovered in the manner we were and by whom.”

  “Salmeo will not be permitted to use this knowledge against you.”

  She smirked. “Oh, that’s easy to say, my Lion, in the safety of this palace. The harem is a different realm, sometimes, all of its own. He will find ways but I shall survive, as I always have. Please do not let this play on your mind. I have a far more important case to plead, my Zar.”

  Boaz shook his head, his expression wry. What a day this was turning into, revelation upon revelation. “And what is that?”

  “The people of Percheron are understandably scared, Boaz. Some are hoarding food, whilst others are fleeing to the hills. If I’m aware of it in the closeted world of the harem, I know you are aware of it in the wider community of the palace.”

  “There is nothing I can do. They are frightened and rightly so. I can’t imagine that if the Galinseans do take the next step toward war, many Percherese lives will be spared.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Mother, I cannot stop our people taking precautions or feeling so unnerved.”

  “Yes, you can. You can lead by example.”

  Boaz’s initial expression of surprise quickly slid into scorn. “You dare accuse me of being a coward. Why do you think I’m still here, I–”

  “Wait, Boaz! You misunderstand me. Hear me out.” She reached for him, clutching his arm firmly as any mother would her son. “Your approach right now suggests a frigidity. It’s as if you don’t know what to do.” She soothed his immediate bristling, her eyes soft with understanding. “I know it is not like that at all, but the people don’t know what’s going on. There is confusion; there is lack of information, and when that occurs, a city can become rife with gossip and misinformation. Do something.”

  “Like what, storm the Galinseans?” he asked, his tone filled with disdain.

  “No. Much more subtle. Go after Ana. Scream from the rooftops that Percheron has an heir. Tell your people that Ana has been abducted while performing her role as emissary to plead Percheron’s case with Galinsea. Tell the people why war is coming. Explain everything! Let them understand that our Zar has been busy trying every diplomatic tool to keep the people of Percheron safe. Remind them that no blood must be shed without trying every peaceful means first. That is precisely what fires a nation’s collective spirit, Boaz. This protective silence doesn’t work.”

  “Go after Ana?” He could barely believe his ears. Not because of the audacity of her suggestion–and it was bold indeed–but because of how exquisitely it answered his dilemma. Here was the answer he had been searching for…the final piece of the jigsaw puzzle he had hoped would somehow slot itself into place.

  “Yes! My darling, let them see you in full-blaze anger at what has occurred. A Zar, riding off into the desert to reclaim his new bride from the monster who has stolen her, and his heir who is the new jewel in the Percherese Crown. Oh, my Lion, it is the very stuff upon which realms are built!” Herezah’s chest was heaving with the passion she was pouring into counseling her son.

  Boaz felt his spirits lift and soar. Ride alongside Lazar. Into the desert to save Ana. His personal plans aside, the very notion of freedom, the desert, riding with Lazar, provoked a spike of intense pleasure. Leave the palace and go on a rescue mission, a crusade to return the heir and the Zaradine to their rightful place in the palace. It was perfect, but he schooled his expression into one that was thoughtful as he pretended to consider his mother’s advice.

  “And, Boaz,” Herezah pressed, “this alone would strike a new chord with the Galinseans. They have held off this long, I suspect, because they’re confused. They know a diplomatic mission was being sent. This action of yours will confirm that things went wrong in the desert and that you are now attempting to put things right. The Galinseans will respect your courage and join your outrage that some upstart, hiding out in the desert, has stolen a royal…a Percherese royal on her way to Romea, no less. They aren’t so dull that they don’t understand the critical need for the royal structure. If renegades can behave like this in Percheron and get away with it, then Galinsea might be next–or so the thinking will go.”

  In his mind Boaz was already thundering along on his camel, white robes flying! “But…” he stammered for effect, “I can’t leave the Grand Vizier in charge of Percheron at this delicate time. I don’t trust him completely anyway,” he said, Pez’s claim haunting his thoughts.

  “No, absolutely not the Grand Vizier! In fact, I would take Tariq with you.”

  “What?”

  “That would demonstrate a very clear determination on your part. It shows Galinsea that you are prepared to leave your realm all but unprotected, having taken your Spur and your Grand Vizier–your two most senior advisers–despite war threatening. You have left yourself vulnerable because something greater is at stake. The very fabric of the land is under siege. If a royal can be stolen, abused, jeered at, what hope is there for our societies?” she demanded, her zealous gaze impaling Boaz. She shook him. “Send a letter to your counterpart in the Isles of Plenty, stir his rage that such a thing could be perpetrated against any royals of any realm by a peasant.”

  “But who is left to deal with the Galinseans?”

  “Listen to me, Boaz. I am a loyal subject of Percheron, and, my darling, I will do anything…anything for you and your throne. You know that?” He nodded. “I am royal. I was the First Wife and Absolute Favorite of the former Zar and now I am the Valide to the present one. I speak Galinsean, of a fashion. I will defuse this tense situation–for a while. I will go to King Falza. I will open talks, take the diplomatic route, keep the Galinseans occupied.”

  Now Boaz felt bewildered. His mother’s suggestion fitted his desires so neatly he found it irresistible. But he could not vacate the throne his brothers had died to give him–the throne his father had handpicked him above all others to occupy–without being sure of the right course of action.

  “You?”

  “If you’ll have me,” she said humbly. “I will be guided entirely by you. But get Lazar away from here. We know he’s in danger
and we also know he’s the only person who can actually find Ana for you. Get the Grand Vizier away so he does not interfere. He has delusions of grandeur, son, and it’s fine to let him be your voice when you require it, but he should not have any notion that he is the Zar by proxy. Just take him with you. He’s another pair of eyes, another cunning mind. I think the situation here in Percheron could benefit from a woman’s touch. My very presence makes us seem so much more vulnerable, and, my Zar, that might be our ultimate defense. The Galinseans will not deem it terribly brave, or royal, to strike against a woman. That’s why Lazar suggested Ana in the first place. Trust his judgment. Get away from here and keep yourself safe, but secure that heir. I give you my word, they will not attack us yet.”

  “And will you also give me your word, swear in blood, that this is not one of your devious plans?”

  “Give me a blade. I shall swear it in blood before you.”

  Boaz stared at his mother, his pulse racing. He believed there was no guile. This plan was either mad or inspired, but he suspected Herezah was suggesting a wise course. He was crippling Percheron with fright through what looked like inaction. He did need to take decisive action and he couldn’t help but feel motivated by his mother’s fervor. And, in traveling with Lazar into the desert, he could also lay to rest his demons and produce the heir that everyone in Percheron would surely celebrate.

  “Bin!”

  The Valide stepped back from her son, veiling herself. He could tell she was unsure of whether he was going to have her removed and incarcerated on the accusation of insanity or whether he was going to take action in the direction she proposed.

  “Highness,” the man said as he entered and bowed.

  “Is Spur Lazar here?”

  “We heard he’s on his way up from the gate, my Zar.”

  “Bring him in as soon as he arrives. Don’t stand on ceremony.”

  “Very good, my Zar.”

  “And, Bin. One more thing. I am going on a journey into the desert. Speak of this to no one, but make the necessary arrangements yourself. Time is short. I leave this afternoon.”