“Did he elaborate as to why he was so uneasy around the Grand Vizier?”
Boaz glanced at the Spur uncomfortably. “I’m sure he’s told you, so you don’t have to act ignorant. He said he believes that Tariq is…” He paused to shrug, suddenly embarrassed.
“Go on.”
“Well, he seems to think the Grand Vizier is an impostor, that he wields a magic.” Boaz waited for Lazar to scoff but his Spur only gazed at him awkwardly. “And the fact that you don’t so much as scorn such a ridiculous sentiment truly troubles me.”
“Why?”
“Because it is ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Oh, come on, Lazar. Don’t tell me you agree with him.”
Lazar remained silent momentarily, looking straight ahead. Boaz cast a glance in the same direction and saw only the same featureless golden wilderness stretching endlessly ahead of them, heat rising from the sands, making the whole landscape shimmer and trick the eye.
“Zar Boaz, this is not easy for me to say to you because I realize it must sound paranoid at best, and at worst you will consider me as insane as Pez would like to have everyone believe he is. However, I don’t know anyone more steady than Pez, and I trust him implicitly.” He had turned on the last word to stare at Boaz. “Yes, I do support his notion,” he added, “no matter how mad that makes me sound.”
“Magic?” Boaz repeated, incredulous.
He watched Lazar cast a glance backward as though fearful of being eavesdropped upon.
“You’ve experienced magic in your own life, Highness. Its presence should not shock you.”
“But we’re talking about Tariq!” Boaz urged.
“Except we don’t believe that person to be Tariq, Highness,” Lazar uttered softly.
“We? Listen to yourself, Lazar.”
“I know how it sounds. It took me a while to accept it as well.”
“Who do you think he is?”
Lazar ignored the question. “Surely, my Zar, you can see the outward changes if not accept the more sinister nuances in manner, temperament?”
“I do accept he has re-formed himself into someone I can respect now, rather than detest.”
“Is that not enough to set the alarm bells ringing, Majesty? A man doesn’t ‘re-form’ himself at close to seventy summers.”
“I rather meant that he was not honest with my father.”
“And the man he truly is–that’s the man we now see here today, is that how you see it?”
“Yes,” Boaz said. “That’s precisely what I meant.”
“Then what did Tariq gain for more than two decades by acting with such guile when he was in a position to be this man with your father?”
Boaz realized he had no answer for that. Instead he gave a disgruntled sigh to cover his lack of response. “I’ll think on what you say,” he finally said.
“I would appreciate it, Highness, if you would not allow Tariq to know my suspicions, for this is not the time or the place to be challenging the Grand Vizier. We need to be as cooperative with one another as possible.”
“I do agree with you on that, Lazar.”
“Thank you. I had better go speak with the Khalid, get everyone mounted up. I see Tariq never did give his camel a rest,” Lazar said sarcastically, drifting back down the line of beasts and leaving Boaz with yet more questions swirling in his mind.
21
As early as it was, Herezah winced at the ferocity of the day’s warmth as she squinted out toward the sea from her balcony. Today was the single most important day of her life. How she handled herself during the course of the next few hours would shape how she, the first Crown Valide in almost two centuries, would be remembered by history.
She was already daydreaming of her triumphant smile as her son returned to a Percheron that had been secured by her negotiations. People would laud her courageous, single-handed effort to broker a peace for the realm whilst the Zar was engaged in an equally brave hunt through the desert for his abducted Zaradine. It would make inspiring reading in the history books. Herezah fed off this notion of grandeur and respect as a means of quelling her increasing nervousness. Her meeting with the Galinsean Queen was in three hours.
That the Queen’s name was Angeline was all Herezah knew about her; she had no idea about her personality or how best to play to her. Herezah didn’t like the unknown, and her lack of clues to the Galinsean royals was the only reason she had permitted–indeed demanded–that Salmeo be present. It had probably been unwise to unsettle the Grand Master Eunuch in the way that she had. It certainly would not aid their relationship, which was now clearly at an end. But she hadn’t been able to help herself. For the first time in their history, the roles had been reversed, and for once Herezah had held the upper hand. She had found the lure to intimidate him irresistible. He would, of course, make her pay. Salmeo was an interminably patient man and she knew he would wait for his best opportunity to humiliate her, likely when–and if–she was returned to the harem.
Herezah never intended to return to the prison. After tasting the freedom of her role as Crown Valide, how could anyone expect her to go backward? Perhaps Boaz, in his bid to modernize Percheron and its ways, might accede to her desire to dissolve her position, allow her to join the palace community as some sort of ambassador for the royals. She knew this was wishful thinking but it was nice to dream. More likely, he would grant her permission to move from the palace into a guarded house, perhaps in the lower foothills, or he might build her a beautiful villa overlooking the sea. She would agree to be surrounded by Elim but she would be free of Salmeo and free of the harem.
She had lived without love all her life. She could easily live alone and lead the life of a chaste, quiet woman if necessary. So today she would parley for peace; she would impress the Galinseans with her diplomacy and intelligence and she would promote neighborly relations. She would be everything Boaz wanted her to be and she would do everything Lazar didn’t think she could do. And then, with her son’s permission, she would withdraw to a quiet life with no political aspirations and no intrigues. If they returned Ana–as she hoped they would now–then the Zaradine could be the most senior and important woman in the harem. Ana already had the harem women eating out of her palm. They all adored her.
Herezah turned at the sound of Elza’s arrival.
“Your tea, Crown Valide,” the servant said, bowing. Before Herezah could ask, Elza said, “It’s pomegranate and lizuli leaf.”
“You think I need calming?” Herezah asked, watching the woman set down the tray.
“The palace is abuzz with your task today, Crown Valide. I hope you don’t think it impertinent of me.”
“No, Elza, I don’t. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t apprehensive,” Herezah replied politely, turning her gaze back to the balcony but not before catching the frown of surprise on her servant’s face.
“May I fetch some food to break your fast, Crown Valide?” Elza asked hesitantly.
“No. I have no appetite this morning. But you can bathe me. I want my hair curled today and pinned. Tell Salmeo I want the emeralds–the full set, hair, ears, nose, fingers, wrists, ankles, and navel.”
“Yes, Crown Valide.”
“I will be wearing the cream-and-emerald silks today.”
“Thank you, Crown Valide, an excellent choice,” Elza replied.
“And send in Bin. I want to go over the arrangements.”
This time Elza simply bowed and departed silently.
Salmeo was shown in, and despite his mood, he made a sound of genuine appreciation at seeing the Crown Valide, who stood, like a vision from a dream, bathed in sunlight streaming in from her balcony as Elza made final adjustments to her mistress’s robes.
“Elza, enough! It is hot enough without your forcing me to stand in the light and bake my skin brown!”
“Crown Valide,” Salmeo said lightly, bowing low. “You look incredible.”
“Thank you, Salmeo. I really needed
to hear that,” she replied. Salmeo read the same surprise he felt at Herezah’s tone and courtesy in the glance Elza threw him. He continued to smile. “I have brought the royal emeralds, as requested, Crown Valide. May I help you with them?”
“Please,” she said, and again he felt a spike of startlement.
“How are you feeling today, Crown Valide?” he inquired, his tone light and conversational as he opened the first of the flat boxes.
“Filled with anticipation. Anxiety, determination, excitement.”
Salmeo could barely believe this was Herezah. He glared at Elza to dismiss her. “I can look after the Crown Valide from here, Elza. Go see about your other duties,” he said. It would not do for Herezah to be too honest in front of the lowest slaves. “Let’s start with the earrings,” he said brightly.
Before long, Herezah’s body was glittering with green gems, and her tall, slender frame carried her robes and the royal jewels immaculately. If she didn’t impress the Galinsean entourage, Salmeo couldn’t imagine what might. Even Ana, for all her ethereal beauty, was no match for Herezah when the Crown Valide set her mind to flaunting her alluring stature together with her all-too-sharp mind. “Allow me to dress your hair, Crown Valide, with this final piece.”
“It’s the emerald circlet, is it?” she asked.
“Yes. It will make you feel every inch a queen.”
“I’ll need it,” she admitted ruefully, and their gazes met in the mirror she sat in front of. Salmeo cocked his large head to one side. She puzzled him today. He could almost forgive her. Almost. But not quite.
“There,” he said girlishly, giggling. “You are finished, Crown Valide, and I defy any man or woman, any king or queen, not to be dazzled.”
“You’re most generous,” she said, distracted. “Can you operate the barge alone?”
“It is the small one that the Zars have used for private trips rather than the one we use for ceremonies. So yes, of course, it will be straightforward.”
She nodded. “I’m going to have to rely on you to serve refreshments to our guest, Salmeo. I know this is below–”
“Don’t mention it, Crown Valide,” he assured her, probably surprising her as much as she was surprising him. She actually believed he might contribute to this parley–be a genuine aid, a true confidant. Well, those days were behind them both. She had made sure of that with her high-handed treatment and underhanded threats. “I am looking forward to seeing how we can surprise the Galinseans with our hospitality.” He smiled broadly. Oh yes, indeed, they were certainly going to leave an impression on their royal guest.
It had been many years since Herezah had traveled aboard the royal barge. There had been a time when Joreb had loved to be out on the water, fishing, playing, entertaining his wives, but especially spoiling Herezah with the freedom that the river afforded her. But in his later years Joreb had lost interest–his appetite for more perverted pastimes with her overrode those simple pleasures of yesteryear. His preferred outdoor physical activity as he aged was riding his beloved stallions or riding her. His health dwindled, his girth increased, and his coloring lost that glow, turning sallow, whilst his breath turned bad. His once faithful adherence to frequent bathing turned disloyal and there were times when Herezah felt the need to hold her breath and count just to get through the few minutes it required the old Zar to spend himself inside her. But what never diminished in Joreb was his sharp mind, and this was something she had always appreciated, always learned from.
She’d forgotten just how beautiful the royal barge was and how elegant a means of travel it offered on the pristine river waters. Salmeo was quiet this afternoon, she noticed, not his usual effeminate self, whispering and lisping at her. Instead he was silent and withdrawn. She could hardly complain, for she, too, had turned inward, appreciating the quiet as the great black eunuch steered them gently forward. They would not travel very far from the main palace area. The Galinsean party would be accompanied first by their own soldiers, who would hand responsibility to unarmed Elim near the palace at a predetermined docking spot. There Angeline and her single servant would alight on a barge and travel upriver, carefully watched but not followed and not accompanied by anyone. No Percherese guards were permitted near either barge. It was intended that Angeline and her companion join Herezah on the royal vessel via a special bridging platform that would be placed between the two craft.
Herezah rehearsed her welcome in her mind. She kept recalling her odd dream and the vision of the large woman in a voluminous dress unsuitable for the Percherese climate, her overly painted face having its makeup leached by the wind and the sun as well as by her own perspiration as her size and the oppressive summer warmth took their toll.
By contrast Herezah imagined her own appearance as cool and calm. Her silks were so lightweight she could barely feel them and her hair was pinned expertly by Elza and clasped by the emerald circlet, a massive teardrop jewel resting on the middle of her forehead. Herezah’s complexion was slightly olive and flawless–she had worked hard to maintain it and required no paint on her face, save some lip color in a shade of soft ruby. She knew she had never looked more exotic or more dazzling, not even on the day she married Joreb. Today she felt like a queen. Today she would act like one.
“What if she doesn’t like the food we’ve brought?” she said, thinking aloud, not meaning to say it.
“Fret not, Crown Valide. I don’t imagine much eating will take place this afternoon.”
“The wine is chilled?”
“A perfect temperature. I brought your favorite–a georkian from the north, sweet and plummy and filled with young fruity freshness. Your counterpart will enjoy it, I promise.”
“And so will I, Salmeo,” she replied. “Although water mine. I need a very clear head.”
“I will prepare your goblet with special care, Crown Valide. She will never know the difference.”
“Thank you.” She hadn’t meant to thank him. In fact, she’d made a pact with herself that she would never show any sort of servility to Salmeo again.
“I see them ahead, Crown Valide,” Salmeo said quietly behind her. “I shall stop the barge now and anchor us.”
“Go ahead,” she said, mesmerized by the sight of the other barge drawing inexorably toward them. She could see no one clearly yet and was glad that she was veiled.
Salmeo, surprisingly swift and light on his feet, finished anchoring and tying up the royal barge. Then he drew alongside Herezah and awaited their guests. “I don’t see her,” he said.
“She is under the awning. Her servant is older than I imagined.”
“Perhaps like you she felt more comfortable with someone she could trust. No warriors are required here, Crown Valide.”
“You’re probably right. Old or not, he is certainly handsome, perhaps that’s the reason she chose him.”
“I doubt it. Right now her concern would be receiving good counsel. No doubt this man has been chosen because he can listen in to the conversation, advise her appropriately. Remember, Crown Valide, Queen Angeline will be just as nervous as you.”
Herezah didn’t turn but she received this as sage counsel. Salmeo was right. Presumably the Queen was not in the habit of acting as an emissary. Although Herezah was entirely unconvinced that Angeline was nervous, considering she held the upper hand, she accepted that Angeline was likely to feel some trepidations.
“I appreciate your wise words.”
She didn’t see him blink in what appeared to be irritation.
The second barge was almost upon them but still the Queen remained in the shadows. Herezah regretted now that she herself had chosen to stand away from the awning of the royal barge; she was no doubt being studied by her counterpart. She had no choice but to hold her head high and her shoulders back, to ensure that the first impression she gave to those watching was one of bedazzling beauty and regal stature. She lifted her hand to the side of her face and in a simple movement dropped her veil. If she was on show, then she migh
t as well let Angeline see her for all her magnificent beauty. Herezah tried not to let the heat burn at her resolve to stand tall but it quietly niggled at her mind that the frumpy, large woman from her dreams had not yet emerged.
The boats were close enough to each other now that Herezah could properly make out the features of the servant who steered the barge for Angeline. He preferred to stand at the front, unlike Salmeo, who worked from the back. He was not especially tall but he was a broad, striking man with a pronounced jaw, no beard, and a mane of hair.
Finally he brought the barge to a standstill and Herezah could at last see a figure within the deepest shadows of the craft. The person remained seated, however, and Herezah found herself squinting in the sun. She wished with all her heart that she had thought this through more clearly. She should have been the one with the sun behind her; she should have been the one to take her time. It was too late now. Salmeo was already quietly setting up the platform that would act as a bridge. She noted that the Galinsean servant did not move a muscle to help. In any other situation she would have been delighted to see the fat eunuch huffing and puffing over a menial task but at this moment she felt only indignation on his behalf.
She made a point of showing that indignation the only way she could without giving offense. “Thank you so much, Grand Master Salmeo,” she said loudly enough for both Galinseans to hear her and his title. Swallowing hard, Herezah took a deep breath, her back to her guests, before she turned and fixed them with a bright smile, one that showed off her perfectly white teeth, not often seen in and around the palace.
“Queen Angeline,” she said toward the shadows. “Won’t you please step aboard our royal barge? As you can see, I am alone but for the company of Grand Master Salmeo, who is the head of our harem.”
She waited, saw the movement at the back of the second barge as a figure stood. Herezah held her breath. This woman was neither frumpy nor stocky. The tall, straight-backed, square-shouldered Queen of Galinsea finally emerged and the Crown Valide found herself swallowing softly this time, her throat dry, as someone who surely was the epitome of royalty glided toward the front of the barge.
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