Goddess

by Fiona McIntosh

  “Spur,” he said, hand across his heart.

  “Captain,” Lazar replied, mirroring the gesture. “Get the Galinseans down to the shore. The King is going to speak with his men.”

  “It’s over?”

  “With Beloch and Ezram on our side, not to mention the other creatures, they have no choice.”

  “Spur, I’m still at a loss—”

  “I know. I suspect the giants and their companions will be gone from our midst soon enough. For now do not fear them. Calm everyone down, remove the dead, get help to the wounded. Get food passed out to the hungry. Everyone must be very confused and disoriented.”

  “Fortunately the majority who stayed are not hurt. They took refuge in the palace.”

  “Get word out amongst the foothills. Send riders in every direction and let people know it is safe to return to the city. Any news on Salmeo?”

  “No, sir. But we can return to the search now that a truce has been achieved.”

  “Someone knows something somewhere. Find that person. I want to know where he is or at least where the eunuch headed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And the woman who was here?”

  “Er, she’s in the sapphire room, Spur. Shall I fetch her?”

  “No, I’ll go there. Escort King Falza, with full respect, please, to the foreshore.” The captain bowed, made to leave. “And, Captain?”

  “Yes, Spur?”

  “You take your orders from me and only me but don’t be surprised if you find the Crown Valide more assured of her position. The soldiers of Percheron do not answer to her directly but she is now the titular head of our realm. Zar Boaz and Zaradine Ana have welcomed a son and heir, Zar Luc. The infant will take the throne when he is of an age. Until then, Herezah will be known simply as Crown. Please let it be known, although I’m sure she’ll organize a ceremony soon enough to formalize the title.” He saw the man’s expression turn to one of dismay. “Trust me on this, Captain. Herezah’s tremendously capable, and Percheron needs a steadying, strong mind at the top. And remember, Captain, Herezah is a grieving mother as much as she is our new Crown. Please tell the men to remember this.”

  “Yes, Spur.”

  Lazar nodded and left the man as he strode to find the woman who had brought his child. He found her admiring the Sapphire Pools. She swung around in fright as he entered the chamber.

  “Spur Lazar,” she said, “you scared me.”

  “My apologies. Also for keeping you waiting.”

  “Oh, don’t be sorry. I never thought I’d ever see the inside of the palace. I could stay here forever and never want to leave.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that. I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name. I was expecting the other woman, the wet nurse.”

  “I am Harras, Spur. The woman who fed your baby was not feeling terribly well. She asked me to bring him to you.”

  “I’m very grateful for the hospice’s swift help and I would like to make a donation. Will you tell the senior woman in charge that I will organize that soon?”

  “Of course.”

  “I also wanted to thank you in person. Is there anything else that the palace can do for the hospice? You have, after all, just assisted the new Zar of Percheron.”

  She giggled coquettishly, and then suddenly appeared coy, as if embarrassed by his personal attention. He’d seen that expression and heard that girlish laughter many times and sighed softly to himself that he was unlikely to ever respond to a woman again. The two women he had loved had both died. There was no room in his shattered heart for a third love.

  “No, Spur, the palace provides kindly for us, although if you’d bring your donation in person, I know your presence would brighten many of the grieving mothers.”

  “I’ll do that once we have settled Percheron back into some sense of normality. The wet nurse—is she going to be all right? What does she do for a living? Perhaps I can find her a position.”

  “Again, that’s most generous. I shall find out. She looked very poor. The child she lost last night was her first son, so perhaps she would appreciate a chance to start afresh.”

  “Please make sure to let me know. I won’t forget her name—Alzaria.”

  “Actually, Spur Lazar, I should tell you, for she made it rather clear to me to advise you—Alzaria is not her real name.”

  “Oh?”

  “I think she was mindful of repercussions. The child was conceived outside of a marriage.”

  “I understand. What is her real name, so I can commit it to memory?”

  “She asked me to tell you that her name is Garjan.”

  Lazar felt his blood turn to ice.

  “Spur Lazar, are you all right, sir?”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders, unable to stop himself. “Harras, tell me exactly what Alzaria said to you.”

  She looked at his fingers digging into her flesh, terrified, but repeated word for word, her eyes scared by the intense way he regarded her. “Is something wrong, Spur Lazar? The child is fine, isn’t he?”

  He let her go, smoothed the fabric of her robe. “Please forgive me. I’m so sorry for scaring you…again.” He seemed very calm. “Did you leave him alone with her?”

  “Only briefly, Spur. Barely moments.”

  “That’s all it takes,” he murmured, frowning.

  “Pardon, sir?”

  “Nothing, Harras. I’m sorry to have startled you. The name she used came as a shock.”

  “That’s all right, Spur. Garjan? I don’t know it. May not be from these parts.”

  “It isn’t. It’s Galinsean.”

  “Oh? Is that bad?”

  “It’s neither here not there,” Lazar answered, distracted. “Is she still at the hospice?”

  “That’s where I left her, Spur Lazar. She said she needed to rest.”

  “All right. Thank you again, Harras,” he said, his mind spinning toward his son’s safety. “One of my men will escort you out.” He showed her to the door, signaled to one of the guards, and mustered a distracted smile for her in farewell. He closed the door to think.

  Maliz was already here in Percheron. How could that be?

  He needed advice. Beloch?

  Yes?

  Maliz is here!

  I’ve just learned that Ezram felt him.

  What? I thought you were not connected to the demon?

  We’re not. But your magic that released us from his spell also made us sensitive to his presence…Ezram more so than me, it seems.

  So, where is he?

  We believe he has entered the city.

  How can that happen? He was traveling across the desert. I thought I had time to prepare for him.

  Lyana rose. When he is fully empowered, he has new magics at his fingetips.

  He held my son.

  There was a terrible silence across their link.

  Beloch!

  What happened? Lazar could hear the trepidation in the giant’s voice.

  He posed as a wet nurse.

  And Luc?

  Well, I’m going to check him again but he seems fine. He was delivered to the palace, gurgling happily enough, then sleeping, as babies do, through his finest hour.

  Lazar, you know that cannot be right.

  I do. I’m thankful he’s safe, relieved beyond belief, but also utterly confused.

  Me, too. Wait, let me bring Ezram into this. Ezram, tell Lazar what you sense about Maliz. I feel nothing.

  I can’t feel him anymore, Ezram answered. It was an initial sense of nausea and it got worse for a while. I told Beloch after you’d arrived that it might mean Maliz had entered the city. I can’t know for sure—I was assuming.

  No, you were right. He was here. He held my son.

  Then your son—if he is concealing Lyana—should be dead, Beloch interjected.

  I know. It doesn’t make sense, does it? Why would he leave him untouched?

  Ezram sighed. Because your son is obviously not shielding the Goddess.


  Lazar paced, frustrated. Where is she, then? Ana died for this! Who else is going to be hiding the Goddess if not Luc? Who?

  Be calm, Lazar, Ezram soothed. I cannot feel Maliz any longer. It is as if he is no longer here. Perhaps the threat has passed?

  Lazar gave a sound of disgust.

  But Beloch sided with his twin. It’s true. I can’t feel him at all. My attention was diverted when we arrived, but even then, whatever I felt was weak enough not to impact me.

  What Ezram felt was obviously far more potent.

  He was in full blazing power, I tell you. I felt unsteady from Lyana’s rising, which provoked that power. Now there’s nothing. And if he was still around, apart from the absolute fact that Luc would surely be dead, we would be fighting against his spell-making again.

  You know, Iridor always told me that Maliz could not be killed by a mortal. Perhaps he was wrong. The woman Alzaria was definitely sickening. Maybe she is dead and he was lost with her? Lazar asked.

  I can’t believe that, but something strange has certainly occurred, Ezram said gravely.

  Lyana is obviously up to something more cunning than Maliz ever imagined, Beloch said. All we can do is wait. What do you wish us to do now, Spur? I think our presence is too unsettling for everyone.

  Where would you go if you could?

  Back to the mountains, they said as one. He heard them chuckle softly.

  Then go. Take the others as well. You have done more than we should ask of you, and Maliz is obviously biding his time, wherever he is, whoever he is.

  We’re never far. We can be with you in moments should you need to call upon us. When you’re ready, we’ll help you tear down the temples and rebuild them for Lyana.

  Lazar nodded. The priests will not make it easy for us, so it will happen slowly. The Galinseans may need some transport back to Romea, by the way, he added, and I may need swift passage somewhere, too.

  I’ll get the Galinseans home, Ezram offered. Beloch can take you wherever you need.

  Thank you, Lazar said. No sign of those riders?

  No, Beloch confirmed. But if they’re smart, they’ll wait for dark.

  Of course. And that’s precisely what Arafanz will do. Nevertheless, alert me to anything suspicious.

  37

  She watched him pace, the quishtar she had ordered and elegantly poured with her own hand left untouched to lose its fragrance and to turn cold. It had been two days since Falza had nearly taken her head off. She still couldn’t prevent herself from touching her throat from time to time in some sort of lingering reflex. She had insisted on supervising Bin’s corpse all the way to the palace morgue and had personally commiserated with his parents at the loss of their brave son. She desperately missed his calming way and Lazar was not helping her nerves one bit as she tried to figure out this daunting, exciting new role of hers.

  “You know this wet nurse?” he suddenly said, startling her.

  “Yes, she’s not from the hospice. She’s a woman I’ve known from my days as odalisque, Lazar.” She saw his expression change. “No, she’s not feeding Luc, obviously. It’s her daughter, who seems to never stop giving my friend grandchildren.”

  “And you were there when she fed him?”

  “Yes, I’ve said it before. She didn’t even know what I’d called her there for. I kept to your strange secret arrangements to the letter. And she’s here now, in the next room, under guard, feeding him. No one but myself or Elza will care for his needs beyond the feeding. What are you frightened of?”

  “I can’t go into it, Herezah. But precautions must be taken. The woman I spoke of, Garjan?” She nodded. “She was a danger to him. How he survived I still don’t know.”

  “You haven’t explained anything, Lazar. But I know you’re grieving like me and I can forgive you your curious behavior. Listen to me, Lazar. Please pay attention and cease your restless pacing.”

  He swung around, exasperated. “What is it?”

  “I am going to make you a promise today. I want you to know that I make it with great honesty. I have no intention of breaking it.”

  “Go on.”

  “It’s about us. No, wait—you must hear me out.” She forced him to hold her gaze, standing up and insisting he let her take his hand.

  “Herezah, I—”

  “Hush. Now listen to me. Percheron has entered a new era. I am part of it. You have made me integral to it. And I will not let you down, or my poor dead son, or the faith my husband, Joreb, showed in me at the outset. As much as he might turn in his grave to know that a woman leads Percheron, I think he would approve that it is me.”

  “I do, too.”

  “I know. And that is why I make you this promise that what has passed is now the past for me. As much as I desire it, I now realize you and I can never be together in the way I would like and I would rather call you friend and feel the warmth of your smile than call you lover and feel the coldness of an insincere kiss. I took advantage of you, Lazar, but you must know it was driven by a genuine need, a genuine love, even if I allowed my own ambition to cloud my good sense. I make no claim upon you. I will never make you feel uncomfortable or awkward around me. I want us to be friends. And by that I mean that I look forward to your companionship for supper now and then, to your advice and constant counsel. I make no other demands of you physically or emotionally. I realize no one will take Ana’s place.”

  “Thank you,” he said, and she heard the deep relief in his voice.

  “We’re raising your son together. He needs us both. I know you will want to tell him about his mother, as much as I must tell him about his ‘father.’ Will you ever tell him the truth?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t think that far ahead. I am worried that he simply gets through this night, let alone the coming years.”

  “Stop worrying. There are Elim guarding all our doors. Your giants are never far. It’s time for you to let the fear go, Lazar. Luc is safe. Percheron is safe. And I am safe, which—”

  “Whatever makes you say that, Valide?”

  They both swung in startlement at the sound of Arafanz’s voice as he stepped lightly from the balcony into the chamber.

  “Zarab save me! He has Luc,” Herezah hissed, hardly able to credit what she was seeing.

  “Zarab will not save you, Valide. Lazar, don’t think of drawing that weapon. If either of you call out to the guards I will slit the child’s throat.”

  “What, when you committed your life to this child sitting the throne?” Lazar sneered. But Herezah heard the fear for his son underneath his bravado.

  “No, Spur, I committed my life to destroying the royal structure of Percheron. I wanted the faith changed, which I gather has already been discussed; the harem disbanded, which I hear will occur soon; and Joreb’s only remaining spawn dead, which you seem to have done very ably for me.”

  “What does he mean?” Herezah asked.

  “Didn’t Lazar tell you everything that unfolded in the desert?” He made a soft sound of admonishment toward the Spur.

  “Arafanz—”

  “You see, Valide,” Arafanz continued, moving deeper into the room, Luc nestled comfortably in his arms, making room for his Razaqin to enter. One was unhooded, and Herezah recognized him, her disbelief deepening. “I’m not sure how Lazar explained away the death of your son but whatever he did say probably didn’t give you the ghoulish detail that it was he who murdered the unarmed Zar, cleaving his head from crown to neck.”

  Herezah let go of Lazar as if burned. “What?” She felt as if all her breath had been sucked from her. “Lazar?”

  “Tell her, Spur. Tell her the truth.”

  “It’s true.”

  She stared at him, shock and fright mingling to make her feel weak-kneed and dizzy.

  “Herezah, I will explain it but you need to know that Boaz had suffered some sort of change. He planned to kill Ana, to kill me, perhaps even Luc. He’d entered a madness from which there was no escape.”

&n
bsp; “You lie,” she said, shaking her head slowly.

  “Of course he lies,” Arafanz taunted. “He wanted Ana all to himself.”

  “Herezah, I have no reason to lie to you.”

  “He wanted his child on the throne, Valide. Imagine it—Galinsean blood atop the Percherese throne. Falza must love it!”

  “I’m sure he does,” Lazar countered, and Herezah heard the ice in his voice. Recognized it. Lazar spoke like this when he was supremely confident. He didn’t feel at all threatened by Arafanz’s taunts. “But if I merely wanted to put a Galinsean on the Percherese throne, I could have helped my father’s cause and taken it myself. This new Zar is half Percherese and he will be raised by and will learn to govern from a Percherese grandmother, chosen by royals, whether he’s blood or not. Does this sound to you like someone who simply wants a Galinsean on the throne, or does this sound more like someone who is following Lyana’s wishes?”

  Herezah didn’t understand why Lazar was talking about bringing the Goddess into the fray but he certainly seemed obsessed with her, what with changing over the faith and tearing down the temples of Zarab. She couldn’t care less about it but she watched Arafanz struggle to answer Lazar’s challenge, so presumably the rebel knew what the Spur was talking about.

  “We’re on the same side, Arafanz. I did your task,” Lazar said, “because I didn’t know if you’d live to fulfill it.”

  “I’m here to finish it,” the rebel said.

  “What do you want?” Herezah demanded.

  “Your death, Valide.”

  “Why?”

  “My task was to destroy the old guard of Joreb’s structure.”

  “It’s already torn to shreds. Let her be. She will herald your new era, trust me,” Lazar assured.

  “Trust you?” Arafanz sneered. “No. Now make a choice, you two. I don’t need this child on the throne. You’re right, Lazar, the changes have already been rung in. His death makes no difference. I see giants roam the land again, which tells me Lyana has prevailed.”

  “What choice?” Lazar demanded.

  “You, Valide, your death in exchange for the baby’s life.”

  “This is madness,” Lazar said. “Nothing will be achieved through her death. Nothing!”