“And what does this Kett have to do with me? Do I have to meet him?”
“Kett is dead. He drowned alongside me.”
“Ah, I know now to whom you refer. Why are you telling me about him?”
She looked up, fixed him with a stare. “Because he told me about you.”
“What?”
“He told me to find the rebel–yes, that’s what he said. I’m only properly remembering it now; it was meaningless to me at the time of his death. Find the rebel, he urged me. And now I know that you are the rebel. We were predestined to meet, to know each other, but he said nothing about your importance to me or that we should be together. The truth is, Arafanz, I have my journey and you have yours. They are interwined but not in the manner of lovers. Whatever your role is, it is very separate from mine.”
He nodded. “Finding myself so attached to you is painful, but it’s true, I cannot be deterred from my life’s mission. I despise all that Percheron has become, Ana. Fat, lazy, carnal, and without a guiding faith that means something. Zarab’s way is indulgent, rather than nurturing. The Percherese have become soft. Crime and sin are rife. Have you seen the moneylenders and marketeers selling their wares outside the temples? Do people pray anymore? Do they hold true to a faith that guides them, inspires them, ensures they look behind them and offer help to someone who has fallen down?”
“I have no fight with your spiritual path, Arafanz. I uphold your faith and your desire to bring Percheron back to Lyana’s Light. But I fear the bloodshed and death that you accept to achieve that. I could never go along with that reasoning, that the end justifies the means.”
He smiled, stroked her cheek fondly. “You speak as though you are several decades older than you are.”
“Boaz is a good Zar. Given the chance and the right support, he could be Percheron’s greatest ruler. He has modern thinking but he is respectful of the old ways, the ancient thinking. He is a man of Zarab because that’s how he was raised and yet his mind inquires toward Lyana.”
“All very admirable, Ana, but–”
“Give him a chance. He has sat his throne for barely sixteen or seventeen moons. He learns fast, he is his own man. Let him grow into his role–”
“No! Your son will be Zar. He will outlaw Zarabism from the first day of his rule. And the present royal family and all the palace hierarchy will be put to death. We will start again through this baby,” Arafanz said passionately, pointing to her belly. “I will set the terms of his rule and I will choose who acts as Zar Regent until your son is of age.”
“When you are like this, it is hard for me to feel anything for you but contempt.”
“Then you are fortunate, Ana.” He kissed her hand and stood. “I wish I could feel that way toward you. Now rest. Your son must arrive healthy or all is lost.”
Lazar led Ganya as far from the campsite as he dared.
“You obviously want privacy.” She smirked when he finally pulled her around the back of a smallish dune. It was so dark he could barely make her out, for there was little moonlight tonight. “What did you have in mind?” she asked as he felt her arms around his neck.
“Ganya–”
“Shh,” she said, placing her lips on his.
Ganya’s arousing dance was suddenly back in his consciousness, her tongue working in treacherous tandem with his own lustful thoughts, winning an instant response from him. Helplessly he kissed her in return, his mind fleeing toward Ana as his arms felt the warmth of Ganya’s naked back, her belly pressed hard against his. He begged Lyana to forgive his using this woman in such a manner. One of her hands reached down but Lazar pulled it away before gently pushing her back. “Don’t,” he said. His words came out as a plea.
“Don’t?” she echoed, amused. “And yet your mouth says otherwise.”
“I cannot,” he groaned.
“Do you not want me?”
“More than you can imagine, Ganya. But what I need is your help.”
“Help?”
He sighed. “It’s so complicated, too hard to explain. I need you to trust me, as your father does.” He could just see her brow creasing in confusion, and he hurried on, whispering, “As hard as this is to believe, I suspect an owl is going to arrive any moment and I don’t want you to be startled.”
“An owl, you say?” She laughed. “Well, this is a first for me.”
“Ganya, please trust me. You are a beautiful, incredibly desirable woman and in different circumstances…”
“You would have thrown me to the ground and enjoyed me, I know,” she said, an edge to her tone. “What about this owl? And what does it have to do with me?”
“He has nothing to do with you. He is a friend. I need to speak with him but I had to get away from the campsite. I used you. I’m sorry.”
“You are going to talk to an owl? Are you some sort of good-looking madman?”
He shook his head. “This is a matter of life and death. You need to trust me.”
“You’ve said that three times now. So, what happens when this owl arrives?” she asked. Her words went along with his story but her sharp tone goaded him.
“I told you. We will speak, share some knowledge. Actually, it’s more likely he’ll change into the form of a dwarf.”
“Have you any idea how ridiculous you sound?”
Lazar sighed. “Frankly, yes.”
“I put my claim upon you, Lazar. You accepted. In the way of the desert that agreement is binding. Don’t humiliate me or lose the high esteem that my people hold for you.”
“Help me and I will honor our agreement. But time is short.”
“What do you want from me?
“Just don’t make a fuss when he arrives. Keep a lookout for anyone who may steal up on us. Garjan is my enemy. He especially must not know about the owl.”
“And who is this all important bird, Spur, that would cause you to cast aside a chance to make love with me beneath the stars?”
Lazar took a breath. “His name is Iridor.”
He heard her gasp as she yanked herself from his grip. “You dare to take Iridor’s name in vain! It is wrong of you to make a jest like this.”
“Ganya, wait, please. I warned you.” He heard the beat of wings. “Watch.”
Right enough, the owl appeared as if on cue.
“Don’t scream, I beg you,” Lazar beseeched.
But Ganya made no sound at all, just a soft moan of disbelief, tinged with awe. “How can this be?’
“It is him,” Lazar assured her, hoping with every ounce of faith that Lyana had guided him to this point. That she would not betray his instinct to be honest with this woman.
“How can I be sure?”
“The desert isn’t normally home to snow white owls, is it?”
Ganya was silent.
“You follow the Goddess, don’t you?” he asked.
“With every beat of my heart,” she whispered.
“Then by his presence you will know what is occurring here.”
“She is rising,” Ganya answered. Her tone had lost none of its wonder.
He didn’t really know what to say; he hardly believed it himself. “I told you Garjan is our enemy. I need to talk with Iridor but Garjan can sense the owl’s magic. It is dangerous. I need to think.”
Iridor had listened as Lazar spoke with the woman. He’d been listening from slightly farther away earlier and had taken his cue to arrive at the moment he did for maximum impact. Lazar had obviously put his trust in this woman, even though they were strangers. And now Iridor waited, frightened to talk to Lazar for fear of discovery but helpless to know what else they could do. He needed to give Lazar instructions. He sat still, sensing the woman’s gaze fixed upon him.
“Lazar,” she whispered, “what do you mean, he can sense the owl’s magic?”
“The owl is here to give me a message.”
“Who are you,” she demanded, “that Iridor himself talks to you?”
Iridor could hear Lazar holding
his rising irritation in check. “We are friends. I am helping his cause.”
“Then I am his friend, too,” she answered. “Can I help?”
“I don’t think so. The magic can be traced. We need to speak but it will draw the wrong sort of attention.”
“You use magic to speak?”
Of course, Iridor thought, equally frustrated. How else is an owl going to talk to a man!
“He speaks to me in my mind. No, wait!” Iridor watched Lazar take her arm as she prepared to stomp away in disgust. “I speak only the truth to you, Ganya. I have no reason to lie.”
“How can I trust you?” she asked.
Iridor was surprised, even bemused, despite his fear, to see Lazar dip his head and kiss the woman in a long, deep embrace. Finally Lazar parted his mouth from hers. “That’s why. If you sense any guile in that, you may leave and tell whomever you wish about what you’ve seen tonight. If you felt only sincerity, then trust me.”
Iridor’s exceptional eyesight saw Ganya smile at Lazar’s words. “Did my father not tell you I was the tribe’s lajka? There is an aura about you, which I don’t understand. But I don’t mistrust it either. And I think I can be more than a sentry for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I hold the owl and I hold you, too, and go into my dream state, I might be able to surround you both with my own protection. I cannot maintain such a protection for long but it will stretch to a minute perhaps, enough for you both to communicate.”
Iridor watched Lazar hesitate, then nod. “Anything’s worth a try. But then we will have no one standing guard.”
“Risk it!” she said, taking his hand.
Lazar turned to his friend and Iridor glided down from the dune and watched as Ganya helplessly fell to her knees, still holding Lazar’s hand. “Iridor,” she murmured, placing her other hand over her heart. “The Khalid welcome and revere you.”
“Ganya,” Lazar growled. “There is no time for this. It has to happen now.”
Iridor hopped over to the woman and allowed her to pull him close so that his back nestled against her. She wrapped an arm around him and once again took Lazar’s hand. “Ready?” she asked.
“Do it!” Lazar replied, urgency in his voice as he cast an anxious glance around him.
“I must find my quiet place and then I will slide into a trance. I won’t be able to see or hear anything around me, not even you. I cannot guarantee–”
“Ganya, please. Let’s try,” Lazar urged.
She nodded, bowed her head. The trio were bound in silence for several tense moments. Suddenly the air felt thick around Iridor. He could no longer feel Ganya behind him or her arm around him but he was aware of her as a smothering presence about him. He took a slow, deep breath, and put the threat of Maliz to one side.
Lazar, he said gently. Can you hear me?
I can. How are you, old friend?
The very short version is that I am stuck as Iridor now. The demon found me. Pez, as you knew him, is dead. Tortured and drowned. But Maliz learned nothing; he is no closer to Iridor or Ana…or you. But you must be careful about everything you say or do. He is frustrated and is in a dangerous frame of mind.
I don’t know what to say, Lazar said softly into his mind.
There is nothing to say. I am gone as you knew me. What is important is Ana. I cannot tell you the way. I can only lead you there, but if the Khalid carry hawks, I’m in danger.
One hawk is certainly with us, Lazar confirmed. Let’s just figure out tomorrow’s journey and we’ll worry about the rest of it as we go forward.
All right. Travel all of the next five days in a firm westerly direction. We will need to meet the night of that fifth day to reassess our plans. I’ll be watching you that evening for any sign that you can get away. As for how we avoid Maliz sensing our conversation…I don’t know. We may just have to place our faith in the Lore and hope it’s enough.
We know it’s not.
We have nothing else. Use Boaz to divert him.
Boaz? What reason do I give?
I have shared my fears with him. Not explicitly that his Grand Vizier is Maliz but that he’s an impostor, using magic, and means us harm.
If Lazar was surprised at this news, he didn’t share it. We’d better stop. Ganya’s cloaking–if it’s working–cannot last much longer.
I shall fly ahead to stay well clear of your birds. I’ll probably be a day ahead.
Be careful, Pez.
Iridor smiled sadly within. Call me Iridor now. Our one advantage is that Maliz has no idea I’ve survived.
What about Ana? Can you not reach her through the mind?
Right now I am nervous about how vulnerable that makes us. Who knows what powers are being used by Arafanz? And with Maliz in our amidst I am fearful of revealing us all.
Risk it. We have to risk everything.
All right. When I feel far enough ahead, I’ll try.
Lazar broke the chain with Ganya and pulled her hand from around Iridor. “Go now,” he said, and the great owl took two hops and flew into the night.
“Ganya,” Lazar whispered. She moaned softly. “Ganya, it is done.”
She opened her eyes and took a deep breath. “And you were safe?”
He grinned in the darkness. “It seems so.”
“It worked!” she said.
“Perhaps. We could have just been lucky.”
“That won’t get you out of our bargain, Spur Lazar.”
“I have no intention of reneging. What you did was brave.”
She shook her head. “What I did was for Lyana. I am not going to think about what I just experienced until later when I’m alone and have silence and solitude to understand it. Iridor!” She gave a soft laugh of awe.
“You believe it was him, don’t you?”
“I do. I felt his presence. And you, Lazar, who are you in this struggle?”
The question hurt. “I don’t know,” he said sadly. “But I seem to be in the thick of it.”
“I saw other things just now. Things about you.”
“What did you see?”
“Pain, mainly.”
Lazar sighed but said nothing.
“Let me help you lose that pain, if just for a short while,” she said gently, huskily. “There are no consequences with me, Lazar. I listened to your heart speak. The name of a woman echoes around it. Although I cannot make it out, I know she is young, vulnerable.”
She pulled him close and he nodded, his face buried in her neck, her long hair shrouding him.
“I love her but I cannot have her,” he groaned. “And I fear for her. She is in mortal danger. She is why we make this dangerous journey.”
“I understand. You carry many burdens and much grief within you, Lazar. You do not love me but you can have me. I offer you a transient but safe sanctuary.”
Lazar picked up Ganya effortlessly, and in a relative cocoon of privacy between two dunes, he released his sorrows.
18
“Lazar has been a long time,” Maliz said sourly.
“You can’t rush these things,” Boaz replied with annoying calm. The Grand Vizier grimaced. The youngster had certainly rushed his copulation with Ana and still managed to sire a child. “Besides, it’s good for him,” Boaz confirmed.
“And how do you think your mother will feel?” Maliz asked.
“I can’t say. But what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her, eh?”
Maliz could hear the edge of disdain in the youngster’s voice, as if he were speaking to the old Tariq. Why would the Zar be pleased about this situation?
“So you’re happy that the Spur has left his Zar alone and unguarded whilst he attends to his own carnal needs.”
“Oh, Tariq, please,” Boaz hissed. “Firstly, I am not alone. Secondly, we have not left Khalid territory yet and Arafanz presumably has no gripe with the tribe; if he did, they’d already all be dead. I see no reason that I need a guard right now. Thirdly, what Lazar does with his
nights is his business, not yours.”
“I just think we should–”
“What? Go take a look? Go check to see if he’s all right? Whether lying down with the beautiful dancer is as good as it sounds? For Zarab’s sake, Tariq. He’s a man, he’s doing what every unattached, red-blooded man in his prime does. The woman offered herself. Let’s leave my mother out of this. She is a grown woman and she has made her own decision regarding the Spur. She knows their ‘relationship’ will be plagued by problems, not the least of which are his freedom and her enforced attachment to the harem.”
“So you’re comfortable with his dalliances?”
Boaz laughed. “Tariq, if you think Lazar has given his heart to the Valide then you are far more naive than I. You know their history. What happened between them has certainly surprised me but it cannot last. Lazar, by his own admission to me many years ago, has no capacity to love a woman in a single-minded fashion.”
“In the way that you do, is that what you mean?” Maliz baited. He hadn’t meant to antagonize but he didn’t like the Zar’s condescending tone.
“Perhaps.”
“How you admire the Spur! You advocate the notion of a man spreading his seed among many women and yet you do not.”
“Consider my position. I can hardly subscribe to any other way of life.”
“But–”
“But how I choose to live within that way of life is my own choosing. I am, after all, who I am. The fact that I choose to be monogamous at this point is a personal preference. I have absolutely no gripe with any other man following the Percherese way–Lazar, or, indeed, yourself included. My mother knows this. My mother would accept this. She is hardly in a position to do otherwise, wouldn’t you say?” Maliz opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off again. “But that does not mean I wish to grind salt into a wound, Tariq. If my mother hears of Lazar’s desert dalliance, as you put it, I could only assume that you helped her to discover this news, and if, Tariq, it should upset her, then I would blame you for her angst…not Lazar, who, if nothing else, is discreet.”
Tariq’s head bowed in acknowledgment of the artful rebuke, but Maliz was not yet prepared to accept that rebuke quietly. “And I wonder, Majesty,” he muttered, “how you might feel if you were in the same position?”
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