by Cate Rowan
“What are you doing here?” The woman shifted her skeptical gaze to Varene, which was fortunate, since the Healer found it much easier to focus on the woman’s eyes than the rest of her fleshy exposure.
“Madam Tirou.” Priya’s bow was deep and fervent. As she rose, she gestured at Varene. “Mistress of the Grand Hammam, may I present Varene na Seryn, the Royal Healer of Teganne? She’s searching for the origins of the illness. She wishes to speak with the sultanas and examine the baths.”
Madame Tirou’s eyes narrowed on Varene. “Have you reason to suspect my hammam is the origin of the scourge upon this palace?”
“Not at all.” Varene spread her hands reassuringly. “I only want to find out why the illness appeared so I can prevent a recurrence.”
“Hmmph.” But Madam Tirou’s many chins and folds seemed to soften as she appraised Varene. “I heard you healed the young prince and the sultanas.” After a long moment, she gave a sharp nod that jiggled across her ample flesh. “You are welcome to the hammam. My lady.” The corners of her keen eyes crinkled with an unexpected smile. “The Sha’Lai sent word she will not come today, but the others are here or on their way.” She glanced down at Varene’s shift, darted her questioning gaze to Priya, then shrugged and closed her mouth. “Please, this way.”
Despite Madame Tirou’s heft, she moved off like the prow of a ship, capacious and graceful as she cleaved through the wet air. Varene clumped along on her mini-stilts as best she could, with Priya following more competently behind.
Skylights in the vast domed ceiling illuminated the bathhouse and its many pools. Lapis, emerald and violet mosaics swirled in exotic patterns over the floors and walls. Naked servants in the corner crushed flower petals in white basins and mixed them with oils, and their hushed voices echoed off the marble of the room. In the center yawned a sprawling rectangle of gently steaming water with shallow steps along one end. Four sleek women lounged there in various states of submersion. They turned, almost as one, at the clatter of Varene’s shoes.
She felt herself starting to blush.
Madame Tirou aimed her sonorous voice at the reclining beauties. “The Royal Healer of Teganne has come to observe the hammam.” With that, she withdrew toward the petal-crushers.
As Varene surveyed the pool’s occupants, she struggled valiantly to keep her gaze at the women’s chin level or above. When her attention landed on Sulya, she found the slashes of the sultana’s brows drawing downward to a frown.
Sulya rose like a water goddess, liquid sluicing off her divine curves and honey-toned skin. “What brings you to our hammam, Healer?” Her barbed tone set Varene’s teeth on edge.
“Sulya,” chided Maitri in a gentle voice. Kuramos’s brunette Fourth Wife, her plush figure waist-deep in the water, offered Varene a warm smile. “Royal Healer, you are welcome here. We’re eternally grateful for your skills. How delighted I am to be free of that bed at last!”
Varene curtseyed, wobbling only slightly on her stilt-shoes. “I’m honored to be of help. Though I didn’t expect you to be out and about quite so early,” she added in mild rebuke. “Or you, O Lady,” she said to Prince Burhan’s mother, the quiet sultana Taleen, who leaned against the pool’s wall a small way apart from the others, immersed to her slender neck.
Both women had the grace to look abashed, and Maitri hastened into an explanation. “I should have waited until you gave your assent, I know, but I just needed to see something besides my bedchamber’s four walls. I felt wonderful when I woke, and craved a massage and a good scrub…”
“Mm,” Varene said with mock sternness, then looked at Taleen. “Are you recovered, then? Truly?”
Taleen nodded, then sank a little lower in the water as if to escape notice.
“That’s all the answer you’ll likely get,” said Sulya, eyeing the Fifth Sultana with thinly-veiled disdain.
“Ahem, shouldn’t someone introduce me?” said a long-nosed beauty sitting primly on a step, water lapping her lustrous thighs.
“Introduce yourself,” Sulya snapped.
The prim belle arched a brow at Sulya. “Don’t tell me what to do, Sixth Wife.”
The fresh scowl Sulya emitted brightened Varene’s mood considerably.
“My apologies, of course,” said Maitri with a genial tilt of her head. “Royal Healer Varene, this is Nireh, the Third Sultana of Kad.”
Varene repeated her curtsey. Nireh nodded and added an elegant flourish of her bare arms.
“Ah, the welcome party is here,” sang a confident soprano behind Varene.
Zahlia, Kuramos’s Second Sultana, strode across the wet mosaics in pattens without a hint of awkwardness, her magnificent breasts bouncing. “Greetings, Royal Healer.” Her russet mane tumbled down her back and a smile lit her emerald eyes.
“Zahlia!” Maitri called out warmly from the pool. “You’re hale again?”
“Thanks to this woman.” Zahlia stopped in front of Varene and took both her hands in her own.
Nearly being gifted with Zahlia’s breasts eroded a great deal of the composure Varene had mustered. “Er…my pleasure to be of service.” She chewed her lip to suppress an embarrassed grin.
“Come, come.” Zahlia pulled Varene closer to the pool’s edge. “You might as well join us in the pleasures of the hammam.” Then she eyed Varene’s shift. “Weren’t you planning to enter the water?”
The Healer shook her head. “I’m seeking the origins of the illness and had a few questions.”
Zahlia gave a charming pout. “Are you certain we can’t entice you to come in while you ask them? At least dangle your feet, my dear. Such a waste to be in this humidity and not enjoy the water. And it isn’t often we’re able to add a new woman to our circle.”
“Yes, do,” said Maitri. “You saved our lives, Royal Healer. The least we can do is share our pleasures.”
Dear Fate, neither would say that if they knew the thoughts I’ve had about their husband!
When Varene hesitated, Zahlia descended into the water and tapped Varene’s bath shoes. “Off with these and sit here on the side. We’ll answer anything you like.”
Including how all of you manage to share Kuramos? Because if I had him, I could not…
Priya bowed low. “If I have your leave, O Glorious Ladies, I’ll go speak with Madame Tirou.”
Left alone with the sultanas and exasperated by her own thoughts, Varene slipped her feet from the pattens. She settled at the edge of the pool and gathered her shift around her knees. As Zahlia and Maitri had promised, the warm water soothed and relaxed her calves.
“See?” Zahlia’s eyes twinkled. “Now, what did you want to know?”
Varene flicked an imaginary speck from her sleeve. “Priya mentioned that the sultanas gather here every day. Four of you caught the malady, so I wonder if there’s any connection. Did any of the servants who ailed have any cause to be here?”
“Absolutely not,” snapped Sulya, and Nireh echoed her. “This hammam is only for the sultanas,” Sulya continued, sending Varene an arch look.
“Except I bring Mishka, sometimes,” added Maitri.
“And when we’re lucky, Kuramos joins us here,” Zahlia purred.
Maitri blushed prettily. Varene’s mind cramped at the implications, but she did her best to ignore them.
“Healer,” Zahlia continued, “except for your handmaiden, the only servants who come to this hammam are those who staff it.” She nodded to the group making the oils. “And none of them fell ill.”
Maitri’s gaze lowered. “My quarters-maid was the first to pass away, though she sickened later than some of the others. But she never came to the hammam.”
Varene gave her a sympathetic nod, then cleared her throat. “Yes, I noticed that many of the servants showed symptoms before any of you did. If they didn’t come here, the hammam itself seems less likely to be a factor—but I’d still like to take a look around, if I may.”
“Of course.” Zahlia waved a graceful hand. “Do what you
must to protect us all.”
“Thank you.” She got to her feet and stepped back into her pattens.
Madame Tirou spotted Varene moving away and sailed toward her, Priya just behind. “Royal Healer,” said the Mistress of Grand Hammam, “may I assist you in your search? What would you like to see?”
Varene flipped her palms upward. “That’s just it, I’m not sure. Perhaps just give me a quick tour, and I’ll see if I notice anything that might be of importance.”
“Certainly, my lady.”
Along the far wall lay four smaller pools that looked about as deep as a human could stand. Steps lined the short wall of each and a pleasant steam rose from the baths to the far left. “These pools vary in temperature?”
“Indeed. From frigid to nearly scalding. The sultanas enjoy moving from cold to hot and back. Very soothing.”
Varene dipped her finger into the nearest pool and quickly withdrew. “Brr! It’s pleasurable to bathe in this?”
“Very much. Especially after soaking in the hottest bath. The skin glows after such treatments.”
That seemed true enough. Despite Varene’s struggles to not look, the women’s skin appeared silken.
“How often are the pools refilled?”
“Continually. You can see the grills over the piping, just there. These baths are a remarkable achievement. Built by our sultan’s grandfather—may his hallowed soul sleep in bliss.” Madame Tirou’s eyes glimmered with pride.
Nearby lay a long slab of marble as tall as Varene’s waist. “This is for massages?”
“Yes, and for scrubs. We use sea-sponges and camel’s milk to wash the sultanas’ skin, and then they’re rinsed with the finest water from the palace stream.”
Varene knelt for a closer look at the gully that circled the slab, where the milk and water drained into a pipe. The area smelled clean and fresh. “How often are the floors scrubbed?”
“Every day, when the sultanas leave.”
“And no one else has come when the sultanas are gone? None of the palace courtiers? The Grand Vizir, for example?” Dabir had died, and there had to be a connection somewhere.
“Certainly not!” Madame Tirou sucked in her fleshy cheeks. “This is the domain of the sultanas. And sometimes the Great Sultan, of course.”
Yes, Varene thought grumpily, so I’ve heard.
“Though he has his own hammam. Smaller than this, but more splendid.” Madame Tirou gave a sharp nod. “There’s another hammam for the high courtiers—all male, of course—and additional ones for the male and female servants.”
“And they are kept as hygienic as this?”
Madame Tirou raised her brows. “I haven’t seen them, of course. But—” and then she smiled— “I thank you for the compliment. And I’ve never heard complaints about them. Our people very much enjoy their cleanliness, Royal Healer. It is considered a duty to the gods.”
“So…except for Priya today, has anyone but the sultanas and your bath servants entered this hammam in the last month?”
After a few moments of thought, Madame Tirou shook her head. “I would know of it.”
“And none of the hammam servants were close to those who became ill?”
“No.” Madame Tirou seemed certain. “When the sultanas sickened, none came to the hammam, and we talked about what was happening. None of my girls spoke of knowing any of those who were suffering. We worried, since the sultanas had fallen ill, but the sickness never spread among us.”
“That’s fortunate.” Varene sighed. Despite having stripped to her underthings, she was no closer to an answer. “Those are all the questions I have for now. Thank you for your time.”
“It is my greatest pleasure to serve you and the House of Kad.” Her rotund figure executed a surprisingly graceful bow and she steered away.
Slim and naked, Priya looked at her expectantly. Varene realized that in the time she’d been in the hammam, she’d become used to the sight of multiple nude women behaving normally. She chuckled. Perhaps Kad was getting to her after all.
She glanced again at Kuramos’s sultanas, still chatting as they lounged in the warm water. His wives. How could anyone live as they did, sharing the same man? How one-sided an arrangement! He got them all, while they each got one-sixth of his time, at best. Surely every wife deserved a husband of her own.
Except Sulya. Maybe Sulya deserved exactly what she was getting.
That cheered her as she and Priya clomped toward the sultanas to take their leave.
“Ah, Royal Healer,” Zahlia said. “Did you find what you sought?”
“Nothing to cause alarm.”
Nireh gave a satisfied nod. “Good.”
Maitri swam a little closer. “Is there anything we should be careful about, or aware of?”
“Just let me know if you remember anything unusual occurring before the illness broke out.” She smiled at the wives, especially Maitri and Zahlia. “Thank you for your help. I hope no more ill befalls this household.”
“We thank you for your dedication.” Zahlia smiled back. “As I’m certain our husband will…in his own way.” She gave Varene a saucy wink.
What did she mean by that? The undertone in Zahlia’s voice…almost as if she were approving of…
Varene glanced at Sulya, who seemed ready to shred Kuramos’s Second Wife.
Did Zahlia actually want to share Kuramos? Sulya certainly didn’t! Varene’s head started to whirl.
Our husband. The very phrase was so…unreal. So wrong. But whether these wives did or didn’t wish to share him, they were already doing so with all the others.
Varene took her leave and strode out, so disconcerted by the path of her thoughts that only later did she notice how much more comfortable she’d become in the pattens. Kad was indeed getting to her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Priya and Varene parted ways at the hammam doors, Priya to get lunch for them both and Varene to look in on Rajvi. As Varene drifted through the halls toward the courtyard, she pondered Kuramos’s marriages.
Clearly he wasn’t monogamous—having six wives was more than proof—but could he never be satisfied in one woman’s bed, never faithful? It was hard to believe that a man who loved his children the way he did wouldn’t also love his woman. Women. Ack.
Since he was married to multiple wives, and they all knew of the others, was he betraying those others when he made love to one of them?
Yes! cried her faithful heart.
But his wives didn’t seem to think so, based on the conversation in the hammam.
What had each of them given up to be with him? Rajvi, for example. The Sha’Lai had relinquished the most of all—a husband who was solely hers. The others must have known the situation they were getting into, since the sultan was already married.
Rajvi must have known her husband would wed again, following custom. How did she feel about that? Had she become inured to relinquishing pieces of her marriage to other women as his wives accumulated?
And did Kuramos have concubines in addition? For a sultan, perhaps that was common and accepted. No one had yet mentioned any mistresses, but that didn’t mean anything.
Could a man be that sexual, that erotic, to need so many women? Heat flushed through her just thinking about it. She slowed to a halt in the empty corridor, imagining his naked body above hers, that wicked grin on his lips, as she moaned on his bed, snaking her arms around him…
She shook her head and resumed her trek through the palace. It would not be right for him to do that outside his marriage. Marriages. To be unfaithful to his…many wives.
Are you so sure? asked a voice in her head. Who are you, Varene na Seryn, to judge the sultan of Kad? If you were a Kaddite, you’d understand the harem. You wouldn’t think it wrong, but normal. The way it should be.
Reluctantly, she conceded that point. So, continued the voice, since he already makes love to many women, since that is normal here, he wouldn’t betray anyone if he were with you.
; Yes, he would! she snapped back. He was still wedded. Besides, she wasn’t built for sharing a man. If she wanted to be with someone, she would want only him. And he should want only her.
In the case of Kuramos and his six gorgeous wives, that was impossible.
This…thing she had for him was clearly nothing more than a sexual fascination born of his magnetism. It had just been far too long since she’d been with a man. Really, it was just easier not to be. It wasn’t that she hadn’t had her share of one-time pairings, but it was a path that grew old quickly. No one had even stirred her to consider it since she’d fallen for Findar so long ago.
Not even Findar himself.
Oh, Mother Fate…
She paused again in the middle of the hall. Even the man she’d loved for so many years hadn’t stirred her. She hadn’t craved to be sweaty and naked and wild in his arms. He’d never shown her more than kindness and a gentle companionship in the decades she had known him. That was all she’d wanted from him. She’d accepted that, had taken it into her being and settled for it.
At Findar’s funeral, she’d felt guilty for never telling him of her feelings, when a confession might have changed things between them and altered the course of his too-short life. But maybe it wouldn’t have. And even if it had… could there ever have been any passion between them? There in the hallway, she tried to imagine kissing Findar, undressing him, yearning for his long, pale hands to glide over her skin… But thoughts of someone else got in the way.
Kuramos. Sexy. Aggravating. Magnificent. Utter temptation. Married to six women.
A panicky squawk startled her, and she raised her head. Gunjan sped down the hall. “Healer! Hide me, hide me!” Around the corner, heavy footsteps pounded toward them.
“Who—” she began.
“No time, no time!”
She grabbed the nearest doorknob and pushed. The bird fluttered through the arch and she followed, closing the door closed behind her. They were in a linen storage room lined with racks of fresh sheets and towels. Gunjan landed on the top rack, his sides poofing in and out with his breaths. “Thank you! I tried to fly out a window but they were closed, so—”