Emissary

by Fiona McIntosh

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, you see, I imagine some of the younger girls are going to be a little fearful of being taken out of the harem. They’ve been here now for a year, so this is where they feel secure.”

  Ana had regained her composure to some degree and answered quickly. “No, Valide, I think everyone in the harem is very excited. I sense no fear.”

  Herezah blinked slowly, as if talking to someone too dull to understand. “Nevertheless, while you may think most are looking forward to it, I assure you some will be reluctant.”

  Ana nodded, understanding her lack of tact.

  Once again Herezah found and fixed a friendly smile to her face. “I am hopeful, Ana, that you will counsel the youngsters, dissuade any hesitation, and especially show them not to fear their Zar.”

  “How do you mean, Valide?” Ana asked, frowning.

  “Let’s take a tour of the garden,” Herezah suggested, even linking arms with the girl, though she despised the feel of her young and unblemished silken flesh next to her own. The Valide understood that she, too, had once enjoyed similar qualities, but that freshness and vitality was gone now. Oh yes, she remained beautiful, but she was an older woman now, a Valide, no less. No man was going to come looking for her these days—no man would dare—but she missed being able to use her body to render a man helpless. It was such a powerful feeling, one Ana had not yet known…or had she? Lazar had been totally in Ana’s thrall; Herezah had seen it in his hungry, desperate gaze as he lied through his teeth to save the girl from the harem’s imprisonment. During the Choosing Ceremony, when all the purchased girls were first presented to the Valide, he had argued persuasively for access to Ana. Herezah suspected it was a lie that the mother in the foothills had demanded as part of the sale that Lazar act as some sort of ongoing mentor—though he had made it sound credible—but nevertheless, adroit though the Spur was, he could not hide…not from her anyway…the helpless ardor he felt for Ana. Her hackles rose just thinking of it. Not only did Ana seem to have Boaz focused on her, but the girl had somehow managed to win the heart of the only man Herezah had ever desired and yet never so much as touched.

  She remembered now Lazar half-naked, standing tall at first against the whipping post in the Courtyard of Sorrows. It hadn’t taken too many bites from the Viper’s Nest to savagely open up his back and for precious blood to flow all too freely out of Lazar’s hard, proud body, to leave it slumped and lifeless by the end of the twenty strokes. She felt a keen pain as she allowed the frustration and anger she normally kept so securely buried to have free rein.

  What she would have given for one night with Lazar. She knew he paid prostitutes for their services and that riled her. She would have given him all of herself for free, risked everything for a single night. And Ana had had several nights with Lazar at Herezah’s expense, from traveling with him from her home in the foothills to a carefree evening the girl had spent with him in Percheron prior to Lazar’s presenting her at the palace. Herezah had discovered this on that final night of Ana’s freedom; she and the Spur had wandered the bazaar—hand in hand, no less!—had shared a meal and sat close together beside a fountain. Her spies reported laughter, tenderness, and even sorrow when the time came to leave the alley of gold—where he had bought her a present—their last call prior to wending their way to the palace. Her fury, a year on, still burned.

  Herezah had only two men in her life, two men on her mind, and Ana laid claim to both of them. It hurt like a savage wound and it took all of the Valide’s willpower not to pull her arm from the young woman walking carefully beside her.

  The silence between them had lengthened. Herezah pointed to a bench seat beneath a fig tree. She swallowed her anger and her voice came out bright and steady. “Let’s sit, shall we?”

  Ana did as asked, maintaining her silence, unsure of what was coming.

  “Do you ever think of Spur Lazar, Ana?” The Valide felt the involuntary movement next to her, knew she had hit a nerve.

  “I do, from time to time, with sorrow that he is no longer striding around the city.”

  “Is that how you remember him?”

  Ana began to shrug, then caught herself. “I don’t really know how I remember him. My time with him was limited,” she said noncomittally.

  “But you admired him?” Herezah prompted, unable to help herself.

  “Yes, I did. I thought he was a fine man and a loyal one to Percheron. It was not right, what happened on account of my indiscretion.”

  Herezah heard the pain in the girl’s voice. She sensed that the odalisque was trying to mask her true feeling as she tried to shape carefully chosen words into a polite response, but the girl’s body language alone revealed to the Valide the depth of her feeling for the Spur. “No one could know that Lazar would be quite as gallant as he was, child. He was very protective of the youngsters he brought in. It was a terrible thing, I agree, but it was no one’s fault.”

  “It was someone’s fault that the whip was tipped with poison, Valide, surely?”

  Again Herezah felt the breath catch in her throat at Ana’s audaciousness. “And he paid the price.”

  “My uncle Horz would never do such a thing, Valide. I did not know him as well as you, perhaps, but I knew him to be a faithful and proud servant of the harem. We were distant relatives—I’d met him only twice in my life before I was brought to the palace and it is merely coincidence that two of the same family lived here. He never treated me any differently from the other odalisques and he was loyal to the Elim. He was no murderer.”

  “And still coincidence that you both became embroiled in the drama that led to Lazar’s death?”

  The Valide watched Ana nod unhappily.

  “Then who, Ana?” Herezah asked innocently, interested to hear what the girl might say. “Who poisoned the whip?”

  Ana turned now and leveled a long glance at the Valide.

  Zarab save us, Herezah thought, she thinks I contrived it! “What does that look mean?”

  Ana instantly dropped her gaze. “I…I mean nothing by it, Valide, my apologies. I just thought you might know something more than has been explained.”

  You lie well, Herezah thought, but not well enough to dupe me. “I know only what you do, odalisque,” the Valide replied in a rare moment of honesty. “He cannot be brought back no matter what the truth is.”

  “He should never have gone, though, Valide. It is my fault and I can never forgive myself.”

  “Perhaps you have learned your lesson, then?” Herezah asked, pleased that Ana had led herself to exactly this point.

  “Definitely,” Ana replied unequivocally.

  Herezah was not yet satisfied. She would remind Ana of this conversation in time to come. “So nothing could persuade you to escape again?”

  Ana looked pained but she held the Valide’s gaze. “Nothing.”

  Herezah smiled. “Thank you, Ana. I appreciate this. You know I chose you as the finest odalisque of the exquisite selection of girls on offer those many moons ago. I have high hopes for you. Perhaps you see yourself as a Favorite? Possibly Absolute Favorite, as I was?”

  “No, Valide,” Ana answered gravely. “I have never thought about such things.”

  “Well, you should, my girl. You have the right intelligence and there is no doubting your suitability as a mate for the Zar. Doesn’t producing heirs to the throne of Percheron excite you?”

  Ana shivered, despite the warmth, and shook her head. “I know what happens to spare heirs, Valide. No, I would not wish that on any mother. I will happily remain barren to avoid such trauma.”

  Now Herezah did gasp. “You must not talk like that, Ana. You have a role now in the harem. Even if you can’t see it, we can. You are the most likely first choice of the Zar. I can’t speak for him but I can see what he sees.”

  “Beauty is not everything,” Ana whispered.

  “So you’ve said, but it is vital as an odalisque. You have little else to recommend yourself to the Zar.”


  “It will not matter to me if he does not choose me, Valide. If you’ll forgive my candidness, I think this is where you and I differ.”

  The courage of the girl to speak so forthrightly to the most powerful woman in the palace had to be admired, and Herezah forgave her the couched insult—for Herezah had never made any secret of her own ambition—and secretly admired Ana her spine. It reminded her painfully of her own determination, even though they seemed to want different things. Herezah still had not clarified what it was Ana wanted. Freedom, probably—what every odalisque would take over all the riches and pampering.

  With a small smile, Herezah returned to their earlier conversation. “I’m pleased, Ana, that you will stay faithful to the harem and not test us again with any further escape attempts from the palace. Your dash for freedom from the harem after the Choosing Ceremony was gravely ill advised, as you’ve now discovered in the harshest possible way. Though I put it down to a fearless nature combined with your immaturity, it must never happen again. Let that fearlessness manifest itself in positive ways—in your duties as odalisque. You have led a blemish-free existence these past thirteen moons, as I understand it.” Ana nodded, staring at the ground. “This is wise,” Herezah reiterated. “Which is why I am asking you to take charge of the picnic next full moon. The girls are still very frightened of me, so they will find it far easier to follow your lead.”

  “I understand,” Ana replied.

  “And, as a reward for your help, I am recommending that you be allowed to visit the Grand Bazaar.”

  Ana looked up sharply, her eyes wide. “Leave the palace?” she asked, her tone filled with disbelief.

  Herezah smiled again, indulgently. “Fully veiled, and with Elim escorts, of course.”

  “Valide…I…I…”

  “It’s all right, Ana. I know what you’re trying to say. I think you forget that I, too, was a prisoner of the harem as a young woman and wanted nothing but to escape its smothering ways. I still am a prisoner. I still yearn for freedom but I have learned to accept my place, as you will. But I don’t want you to suffer as I did. If I can allow you to enjoy some rare moments of independence—the boat picnic or this trip into the city—then I will allow it. I feel the freedom will keep you less…troubled, shall we say.”

  “I really don’t know what to say, or how to thank you,” Ana stammered, shock written on her face.

  “Thank me by being true. Keep your promise not to try anything silly and help me to give these girls a good time out on the water. Help me in the harem itself by being cooperative, less sullen, not so withdrawn. This is your life now. I want to try to make it easier to live, but I can’t save you completely. You must accept it, as I did, embrace your role as odalisque and do the very best you can. You’re so bright; I’d like to see you studying more. Is there anything you really enjoy?”

  “Well,” Ana began, “I believe I’m good at language, Valide. Perhaps I can concentrate fully on that.”

  “And not embroidery?”

  Ana actually smiled and Herezah saw how any man would be instantly captivated by the way her eyes sparked when she was happy. “I don’t care much for sewing,” she admitted wryly.

  “And who could blame you,” Herezah replied, arching her eyebrows, feeling the fragile bond forming between them. “All right, I think focusing on language is an excellent idea. We always have a need for translators. Any particular one?”

  “Galinsean,” Ana gushed, then reined in her enthusiasm. “And of course, Merlinean.”

  Herezah really was amused now. “Galinsean! It’s an impossible tongue, child! And we don’t need Galinsean.”

  “Since losing the Spur, I would suggest that we do, Valide. He was the only person who spoke Galinsean fluently, as I understand it. And although I know he was Percheron’s army head—and I’m merely a slave—it may be handy to have someone other than the Zar who understands the language. I must admit to you that I’ve actually been teaching myself the language for the past year. But I’d like to devote more time to it—perhaps a tutor can help with my accent?”

  The Valide gave a sound of surprise at the girl’s claim. “Taught yourself?”

  Ana nodded, embarrassed.

  “How?”

  “The library, Valide.”

  Ana failed to mention that Pez had guided her in this, found all the right books and secretly aided her learning, even introduced her to a shy slave—an old man who had suffered the misfortune of being captured by slavers twice in his life. He was originally from the north, where Lazar’s great friend, Jumo, hailed from. Jumo had disappeared since Lazar’s death, but he had known the slave in the library and had suggested him to Pez as a tutor for Ana’s learning of the tough language from the west. After his second capture by the Galinseans, the slave was sold to the aristocracy because of his skills in painting portraits. The librarian had learned both the language of the streets and the higher language of the wealthy. Finally taking his chance to flee from slavery, he had risked an escape with a caravan across the Great Desert in an effort to reach his home-land but had been captured by Percherese slavers and sold to the palace, where he now worked in the library assembling a contemporary history of Percheron in pictures. He had taught Ana well.

  “And how fluently do you speak Galinsean now, Ana?” Herezah asked, unable to hide her shock.

  “You are right, it is a difficult language,” came the diplomatic reply.

  Herezah had to admit that talking with Ana felt like she was conversing with a peer. The girl still looked too young to have anything much in her head save expensive gowns and glittering jewels, but it was obvious that all the perfectly normal traits of being young and female and spoiled were completely absent from this one. Even her manner of speaking was mature. “Not even Boaz can master Galinsean and he has been studying it most of his life.”

  “I would like to try, Valide, if you’ll permit it.”

  “I’ll permit it, Ana, but I see no use in it. I’ll recommend to Salmeo that you be given tutoring but I would like you to learn Akresh as well, which is far more useful for visiting dignitaries and the like.”

  “I’m happy to do so.”

  “Good. So, it is agreed—we’ll both help each other. You have only days to get the girls prepared for their boating picnic. I will recommend the trip into the city to pick out some fabrics and some jewels for you. It’s time we started dressing you to show off your lovely figure and to present you as a potential Favorite for the Zar.”

  At this, Ana’s eyes clouded again, but she maintained her eager expression. It was obvious to Herezah that all mentions of bedding the Zar were scaring Ana. Well, like most things, after the first time, it all got easier. Ana would survive, as every fearful odalisque down the centuries had done. “I shall start helping to plan the picnic festivities now, Valide.”

  “Excellent. And I’ll inform Salmeo of our bargain.”

  Ana excused herself and in her hurry to depart missed the sly smile of the Valide, well pleased with how adroitly she had manipulated the young woman. Herezah reached for her bell to summon a runner. Salmeo must hear that their plan was now in play.

  5

  Pez found Ana sitting with most of the other odalisques in the divan suite. Here couches were laid out around the walls and across the room at well-spaced intervals so the young women could lounge, relax, take some iced tea or sweet pastries if they chose, but, most importantly, this was where most could inhale the fumes of the burning garammala.

  This oil, yielded by squeezing the leaves of a tree that grew only on the fringe of the desert, was headily expensive, yet most of the rich of Percheron enjoyed it occasionally. Pez had tried it only twice and both times had been violently ill, so he had never grasped the attraction, although watching others, he realized it usually had a completely different effect. It appeared to relax users to a state of calm whilst somehow keeping them alert, as if all their senses were heightened. Unlike other relaxants, garammala did not make user
s slur, drowse, or hallucinate. It simply put them into a gentle, happy mood, bordering on mildly euphoric. It apparently made the inhaler feel almost instantly erotic, too, for Pez remembered wandering into this room when the previous harem had made good use of the pipes and noting that all inhibitions were dropped. It seemed the women were quite happy to spend their newfound erotic currency with anyone who’d pay attention, including the eunuchs. Knowing how they were left long and lonely and sexually frustrated for years, Pez could feel only pity for the women who escaped their demons through garammala.

  Only Herezah, he recalled, never took the oil, and just as the Valide had resisted it all those years ago, now sat Ana, contriving similar symptoms of joyful mood but ignoring the pipe by her side, knowing no one would notice…no one except him, of course. He winked at Ana and she gave him a soft smile as she swung her legs down and stood to greet him.

  “I’ve missed you,” she said, hugging her friend. “Where have you been?”

  Pez gave her an equally gentle smile, but one tinged with regret. “I’m sorry,” was all he said, pulling at his hair as if it were crawling with nits. A couple of girls nearby laughed. “What have you been up to in my absence?” he added more brightly in a whisper.

  She took a breath and arched her eyebrows as if to say plenty had occurred. “The Valide requested a meeting with me today.”

  Pez expressed his surprise while performing foolish little hops and jumps. He burped. More of the girls giggled. “And?”

  “Shall we walk?” she asked.

  “Cartwheel for us, Pez,” one of the youngsters beseeched.

  He did so, happily spinning around the room and expertly avoiding collisions with furniture and beautifully attired women. He enjoyed warranted applause before pretending to be dizzy and staggering onto the pathways outside the room. Ana duly followed; no one took much note of her departure. Pez carefully sat on a small wall and studiously picked his nose, staring at the sky as if uninterested in the person who had followed him. Ana spoke in a low voice as she strolled by him very slowly, pretending to enjoy some sun on her face.