The Twilight Lord

by Bertrice Small

  “Then you have been free to dally with your new slave girl, my lord. I can see it has done you good,” Jonah told him. “You appear more at ease than you have in many months. Your responsibilities weigh heavily upon you, I know. I am delighted that you have someone with whom you can enjoy life, my lord.”

  “Jonah, it is a miracle. I am once again able to enjoy taking pleasures with a woman! You know that ever since I had that dream where that wretched faerie woman cursed me, I have not been able to do so. Anora’s whips could arouse my manhood but even her most skillful abuse could not cause me to enjoy pleasures. But with Shifra it is all different! Ah, Jonah,” the emperor gushed, “she is beautiful and kind and sweet, yet she is intelligent. She seems to exist merely to please me and make me happy. Over these last few days I have offered her whatever she wanted to show my satisfaction with her but she refuses to take anything from me. She asks only to be allowed to be with me. How different is that from my two wives? Both are always eager for some new acquisition. And what one wants the other must have or I am allowed no peace in my own house.”

  “But the lady Vilia is the mother of your children, my lord, and she has always had your best interests at heart,” Jonah murmured. “And you loved the lady Anora enough to ask the lady Vilia’s permission to marry her.”

  “I don’t want either of them any longer!” the emperor declared forcefully. “What can I do, Jonah, to get rid of them without the people thinking badly of me? I want to free my sweet Shifra and marry her. I want to make her my empress! Think, Jonah! Think!”

  “My lord, this is a serious decision that you propose making,” Jonah said softly. “With the lady Anora, while she will protest mightily, the solution is a simple one. I believe she would be content owning her own Pleasure House in The City. If you can arrange that along with the license to operate it in her name, if you will settle an outrageous amount of gold upon her, if she may keep her villa with its farm in the Outlands province, along with all the jewels and other luxuries you have settled upon her and if she may take her servants and slaves with her, I believe she could be persuaded to allow a divorce especially if no fault in the matter was laid at her door.

  “And while I have always been respectful of the lady, I have also felt she was your bête noire, my lord. You will lose naught by ridding yourself of her. But the matter of the lady Vilia is another thing altogether, my lord. She is the mother of your children and is greatly respected among the people. You must think on this most carefully before you decide to move forward,” Jonah advised.

  “She has always preferred the country to The City,” Gaius Prospero said slowly. “Even when we had that little farm in the Midlands where we would go to escape The City’s heat in the summer. And with our daughters wed and Aubin grown, she seems to spend more and more time at that villa of hers in the Outlands.”

  “Ridding yourself of her will cost you dearly, my lord,” Jonah said. “You cannot free and wed your slave girl and then make her your empress if you are still wed to the lady Vilia. The people would not stand for it. But first the lady Anora.”

  “Anora would cost me less if she just died,” Gaius Prospero said softly.

  “Indeed, my lord, she would,” Jonah agreed, “and as you say, she has been ill these past few days. If you truly mean to rid yourself of her this might be a most convenient time,” he suggested.

  “I have paid little attention to her since she grew sick,” the emperor noted. “Perhaps I should send her some special treat. She has developed a taste for Razi of late, the peach-flavored in particular.”

  “Will you allow me to send her some from one of my Razi kiosks, my lord?” Jonah suggested. “In your name, of course.”

  “It will be a most special blend of Razi, will it not?” Gaius Prospero asked. “It must be the best for I will have only the best for my dearest Anora.” He lowered his voice so that only Jonah might hear it. “It should be quick. There ought not be any suffering to draw attention to the sad event, Jonah. This illness she has been suffering must be blamed for her untimely end. She is not well-known among the people. A small period of official mourning to show respect should suffice.”

  “It will be just as you wish, my lord, and a short public mourning will more than suffice,” Jonah told Gaius Prospero. “But let us now consider the rest of the matter, my lord. The slave girl is yours and she is going nowhere. You must move slowly and carefully in the matter of the lady Vilia. In another month at the Spring Festival, free Shifra in public gratitude for Anora’s life and service to you. The girl then becomes your private Pleasure Woman. The people begin to know her and are happy for their emperor who is so obviously content and happy himself.

  “Then you will speak with the lady Vilia about dissolving your union. And over the following months we will work out the agreement between you with all its many details. You will be very, very generous, both with your fortune and with your words. At no time will you show disrespect, my lord, to either your lady wife or the children she has borne you. While your offspring are grown you must nonetheless make provisions for them. This will please the lady Vilia and reassure her that you mean her children no ill will. And by year’s end the lady Vilia will no longer be your wife, and you may do what you will with your beloved,” Jonah concluded softly.

  “Jonah, as always you voice my very thoughts so succinctly,” the emperor said.

  “I have learned much from you in your service, my lord,” Jonah murmured with a small bow. “If you will permit me I shall now go and arrange for that gift to be delivered to the lady Anora so all of your plans may be set into motion.” And he quickly withdrew, leaving Gaius Prospero chortling with delight.

  A discreet and clever man, the emperor’s right hand left the Golden District on foot and found his way into the Quarter. He was well cloaked, for he wanted no one to recognize him. He sought out one of his own Razi kiosks and purchased a full skin of the beverage, a mixture of frine and several herbs that gave the drinker dreams. Razi had become very popular in The City, especially among the poor who used it to quell the effects of their poverty. But the well-to-do also found it pleasant to drink when they sought to escape the tedium of their own world.

  Returning to the Golden District, the wineskin concealed beneath his garments, Jonah sought out his own apartments. Within, there was a small interior chamber where he kept certain items. Carefully emptying the skin of Razi into a magnificent cut-crystal pitcher with a engraved gold lid, he then poured a small vial of clear, odorless liquid into the Razi and mixed it about. Then he personally carried the pitcher to the lady Anora’s apartments and knocked.

  The door opened just a small crack and a servant’s head came into view. “Yes? What is it?” she asked. “Oh, it is you, Lord Jonah. I am sorry but my mistress is not well and will receive no one.”

  “I have just come from the emperor who informed me of your mistress’s unfortunate illness. The emperor wished me to deliver this pitcher of peach Razi from one of my own kiosks, which as you know serve the best Razi in The City. He thought that as the lady Anora has been so indisposed she might enjoy this small treat. And he wished me to convey to the lady Anora that he has missed her good company and hopes she will soon be well enough to join him again.” Jonah handed the pitcher to the serving woman, then with a small nod of his head, turned and left her.

  The door had barely closed when Anora was nagging at her servant to deliver her the Razi for she had been listening to the exchange. “Bring it here! Bring it here! And fetch me a goblet,” she said. “So, he is finally bored with his little slave girl and thinks to wheedle back into my good graces, does he? When this damnable rash finally recedes, his fat bottom will burn fire for his neglect of me, I promise you,” Anora said, licking her lips in anticipation of the whipping she planned to give her husband.

  “But the rash seems worse today, my lady,” her servant pointed out. “It has crept down your legs and is even between your toes now. And there are more bumps erupting on you
r face and belly. And nothing the physician has prescribed has worked to ease your difficulties. Those little lumps ooze each time one breaks and it takes forever for them to dry up. And many that have broken have just been raised anew from the pus itself,” she observed.

  “The Razi, you stupid cow!” Anora snarled. “If I must bear this torture at least I can escape into a dream.” She flung herself onto a low couch.

  The serving woman fetched a large goblet and brought it along with the crystal pitcher to a small table by Anora’s side. She poured the Razi into the goblet, smelling the delicious fragrance of peaches as she did. Anora snatched the goblet from her and drank it down, almost immediately holding the goblet out for more.

  Anora looked at the large pitcher. The Razi sparkled within its crystal container. It would take her most of the afternoon to drink it all, but she would. And in between she would doze and dream. The stink of her sores and the appalling itching wouldn’t plague her at all. Razi was what she needed to relax, for Anora had been terribly distressed by the nasty rash and evil pustules that had afflicted her. She swallowed down half the gobletful and felt generous. “Go and get some rest or just do what pleases you for a few hours,” she said to her servant. “I will be all right here with my Razi. And do not ask, for I want no food. My belly is still distressed with this illness.”

  “Thank you, my lady,” the servant replied. “If you are certain you do not need me I do have some things to do. And a walk in the garden would be pleasant.”

  “Go along,” Anora waved her away, sipping at her goblet, her eyes closing.

  The servant scampered from her mistress’s chambers sighing with relief to finally be free of Anora’s usual bad temper and the stink of her open sores. When she returned late in the day she wondered if she had stayed too long and if Anora would be angry at her. But the emperor’s second wife was content. She even asked for some soup, which she drank down, returning then to her pitcher of Razi which was now almost empty. The serving woman helped her mistress to bed. Anora clutched her cup as she lay back, the last of the Razi in it. After washing the empty pitcher the servant dried it, set it among her mistress’s things, for it was very beautiful, and found her bed.

  When morning came the serving woman looked in on Anora. She appeared to be sleeping still, and as sleep had eluded her these past few days the servant decided to allow her mistress more rest. But when the noon hour came and there was no indication that Anora was awakening, the servant crept into her mistress’s bedchamber. Anora looked beautiful despite the rash covering her body but the serving woman saw that she was not breathing. She put a small hand mirror to Anora’s nostrils to be certain, but the mirror remained unblemished by even the faintest breath. Dropping the glass the servant ran from Anora’s apartments screaming.

  The emperor was informed that his second wife had died, apparently in her sleep. A physician came and seeing the rash and weeping sores announced that the poor lady had died of an infection, the cause of which was unknown to him. Criers went through the city announcing the untimely death of the emperor’s beautiful second wife, the lady Anora. Because of the nature of her death the body would be cremated and the ashes buried in the family’s burial ground. A public memorial would be held so that all the citizens of The City might mourn with the emperor who would host a grand feast for all of his good people.

  The lady Vilia returned from her villa in the Outlands genuinely shocked by Anora’s sudden death, but Gaius Prospero’s apparent distress over his second wife’s demise soothed any suspicions she might have had. Jonah said naught to her and he, too, appeared surprised by what had happened. But when on the first month’s anniversary of Anora’s death, at the Spring Festival, Gaius Prospero publicly freed his beautiful new slave girl, Shifra, Vilia began to wonder if Anora had not been murdered—and if her own life was now in jeopardy.

  In the dark of night she made her way through the palace and sought her lover’s quarters. All was quiet. She had managed to come to him using a series of hidden passages, thus avoiding the guards and the fierce panther cats that were brought in at night to prowl the palace with their keepers. Jonah was surprised to see the hidden door in his bedchamber open suddenly and Vilia step through.

  “This is unwise, my love,” he told her.

  “I want the truth,” Vilia said. “Was Anora murdered, Jonah?”

  He smiled a rare smile. “I wondered when you would decide to ask me that question,” he said, drawing her into the comfort of his arms. “The answer is yes, but I do not consider it murder, my love. The emperor wished to rid himself of her. He outlined to me the generosity he would show to Anora, for you know his fear of not being considered generous and benevolent. And then suddenly it occurred to us that perhaps there was an easier, a quicker way. You know her weakness for Razi. I indulged it.”

  “You poisoned her,” Vilia said softly.

  “With the illness she has been suffering I could be almost assured that the rash and pustules would be held to blame and they were,” Jonah replied. “She did not suffer.”

  “And am I to be disposed of next?”

  “Yes,” he answered her candidly.

  “Jonah!” She gasped.

  He laughed gently and caressed her head. “In a far more humane way, my love. He holds you in high esteem, Vilia, but he wants to divorce you while at the same time not giving the appearance of cruelty or ingratitude for he knows that the people admire and respect you.”

  “To wed Shifra? He can have as many wives as he wants,” Vilia exclaimed.

  “To not just wed her but to make her his empress,” Jonah said quietly.

  “Never!” Vilia replied furiously. “The pig! That wretched little man would not sit so high were it not for us. He would take a nameless slave girl and make her empress of Hetar? He would put that soft girl in my place? I will kill him first!” Her eyes flashed angrily and there was high color in her cheeks.

  “I have never seen you like this,” Jonah murmured low and then pushing her to the carpet he fell upon her, his hands shoving her gown up. “You are surely the most exciting woman ever created, my darling Vilia.”

  “Get off me! Let me up!” she ordered him.

  “No!” he growled and thrust himself into her female passage.

  Vilia beat at him with her knotted fists. “Stop! I do not want you! This is no time for pleasures, Jonah. Stop!”

  “Liar! You are already wet with your desire and I must have you!” He forced her arms above her head. Finding his rhythm he began to pleasure them both despite her protests, which waned until the only noise within the chamber was the sound of their rapid breathing and their moans of delight.

  “You cannot make me forget what you have told me by wielding your manroot so skillfully,” Vilia told him when they had finished indulging their passions.

  Jonah stood, pulling Vilia up. Sitting down in a large chair by the hearth he drew her into his lap. “I don’t want you to forget, my darling,” he said. “But the time has not yet come for us to act. Gaius Prospero and his little empress-to-be will not rule Hetar for very long, Vilia. But we do not yet have the wealth we must to buy the allies who will help us successfully achieve this coup.”

  “I want him dead!” Vilia said. “And his pretty plaything, as well.”

  “Be patient, my darling.” Jonah soothed the angry woman. “If we act too quickly the magnates will choose one from among them to rule or worse, go back to the republic with its High Council. There is no other man in Hetar besides me who can rule and there is no other woman who should grace the empress’s throne but you, my darling Vilia. But we must proceed slowly. First, you must agree to the divorce that the emperor desires. Then you will negotiate under my guidance for an equitable settlement.”

  “And what is equitable?” Vilia wanted to know. Her anger was easing and suddenly the idea of ridding herself of Gaius Prospero was very appealing.

  “Half of his wealth,” Jonah said, smiling at her gasp of astonishment.
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br />   “He’ll never agree!”

  “He will agree, for his need to marry this girl and make her his empress will override everything else for him. I will see to it. The emperor believes himself secure and safe upon his throne. But once his wealth is halved he will be weakened.”

  “Gaius’s one great talent,” Vilia said, “is his ability to gain profit. He will rebuild his wealth quickly.”

  “Not quickly enough,” Jonah replied. “I have amassed a small fortune during my years of service to Gaius Prospero, and you have also amassed a small fortune of your own. Our combined assets added to the settlement Gaius Prospero will fix on you will make us more powerful than the emperor. And that is when we will act to seize his throne. After all, the throne is part of his wealth and he has stolen it from you in order to put another in your place.”

  “How do you know I have amassed a small fortune?” Vilia asked him.

  He smiled. “I know everything about the emperor and his family, my darling. I would not have survived this long did I not. You possess almost five million gold cubits along with considerable land holdings.”

  She nodded in acknowledgement of his words and then said, “And what do you possess, Jonah?”

  “More. Much more,” he said and the corners of his mouth turned up just faintly in reply to her question.

  “How much more?” she demanded.

  “Do not be greedy, Vilia. I am going to help you to become the richest woman in Hetar—as well as its empress,” Jonah told her. “But since I see you cannot be satisfied until you know what you will know, I will tell you that I possess over one hundred million cubits of gold. You have more land than I do but I could not appear to be gaining wealth lest the emperor become suspicious.”

  “How in the name of the Celestial Actuary did you ever amass such a fortune?” Vilia wanted to know. She did believe him and she was enormously impressed.

  “Mostly from the Razi kiosks,” he told her. “Remember, I hold the monopoly on Razi in Hetar. And I have more kiosks throughout the country than anyone else. And if someone wishes to open a kiosk they must come to me first and apply. Of course I gain a fee when an application is filed. And then another fee when I issue a license. And the kiosk builder must pay me a fee for every kiosk he builds and there are only two builders who may build kiosks in the land. And the independent Razi vendors cannot own their kiosks. They must pay me a monthly rental, as well as thirty percent of their profits—collected daily so they may not cheat me. Razi has turned out to be a very lucrative business for me, my darling. And of course my vineyards are profitable and becoming more so each year.”