Goddess (24 page)

‘Salim, I cannot—’

‘I know. I will talk to her. But she will insist on accompanying us. I know that look. Her mother taught her well.’

Lazar twitched a grin. ‘She can see, that’s the thing. I won’t refuse her help.’

‘Then we give it gladly. It means we get closer to her brother with each day. But, Lazar, don’t hurt her. She is lajka, yes, but first she is my beloved daughter.’

Lazar nodded. ‘I didn’t tell my people the whole truth. Ganya and I do not need to…well, you know,’ he said, shrugging. ‘She only needs to hold my hand or touch a shoulder to use her powers.’

Salim laughed. ‘That won’t stop her, Spur. She has chosen her place in the sand. Now she intends to lie in it.’

‘I know,’ Lazar admitted, embarrassed, ‘I just wanted to assure you that I won’t—’

‘You miss my point, Spur,’ the Khalid said, still amused. ‘I would be more disappointed if you didn’t. This is what she wants. So long as you are honest with her. I am her father, I want her happy. If being close to you keeps her happy and she can help me find my boy, then the winds are calm—as we say in the desert.’

‘Your winds may be calm, Salim. Mine are blowing hard.’

The Khalid chuckled. ‘The boy seems to speak his mind,’ he said casually, nodding towards Boaz.

‘He is young, brash. Wanted to know what we were arguing about and then had the nerve to say his piece. He’s lucky he didn’t get a cuff around the ear for it,’ Lazar answered, moving towards his own camel.

Salim fell in step with him. ‘And yet you seemed attentive to his words, nonetheless.’

Lazar gave his friend a sideways glance.

Salim smiled. ‘I know, I know. Shut up, Salim, and have trust…and I do.’ This time the Khalid strode ahead, throwing a rueful look backwards at his companion before he began barking orders to his people.

Word had come back from the Galiseans but it was not as Herezah had anticipated.

‘They said what?’ she demanded.

Bin swallowed. ‘Crowne Valide, it is difficult for us to comprehend precisely what the Galinseans are communicating. You understand that we are working through interpreters on both sides.’

‘Don’t be fooled, Bin. King Falza, I’m assured, speaks Percherese, no matter how haltingly he might convey it. He is toying with us if he wants us to believe he needs to speak through vague translation. Don’t believe it. Tell me again what was said.’

‘The messenger reports this message, Crown Valide: King Falza will meet with the Crown Valide of Percheron via another party. They wish this meeting to take place within the Stone Palace complex. I am taking our own interpretation now, Crown Vailde, when I say that they understand that you may prefer not to have a Galinsean war delegation in the palace proper. Thus the king has agreed for the parley to occur on the Daramo River aboard barges.’

‘Aboard barges? He dares to tell us where and when and how?’

Bin looked nervous but remained steadfast. ‘Crown Valide, I’m not sure we’re in a position to argue. It appears to me that the Galinseans are paying you quiet respect.’

‘Does it, indeed?’ she snarled, but his rationale caught her attention, impressed her with its insight. ‘Well, you’re right in one aspect: I don’t have a choice. Set it up for tomorrow. The furthest point of the river, mind,’ she warned. ‘Will this other party be alone?’

‘An emissary—if we may call this person by such a title—plus one servant. You are permitted the same.’

‘I am
permitted
?’ she repeated.

Bin stared at her, wide-eyed. ‘I am telling you only what has been communicated, Crown Valide. I would send many Elim if it were up to me. But you will be strong, Crown Valide, and the people of Percheron trust you to represent them with courage.’

Bin’s words appeased Herezah. He was right. She would show fortitude and she would not feel threatened but would instead be courteous and magnanimous in her dealings with the barbarians.

‘Fine. Set it up. Advise everyone you need to. Tell Elza and anyone else who needs to get me ready. And send for Salmeo but don’t show him in immediately. Let him cool his heels outside until I’m ready to see him.’

‘Yes, Crown Valide, as you wish.’

‘Oh, and Bin?’

‘Yes, Crown Valide?’

‘Do we have a name for this
party
?’

‘Yes,’ he said and Herezah noticed his trepidation.

‘Well? Don’t stand there gawping at me, boy. What is his name?’

Bin took a breath. ‘It is a she, Crown Valide. Her name is Angeline.’

It was Herezah’s turn to suck in a breath. She swung around, momentarily speechless. Her voice finally pushed through the shock. ‘The queen?’ she asked, fright layering over her initial astonishment as her dream came back to haunt her.

Bin nodded. ‘So I am told, Crown Valide.’

The smell of violets accompanied the swish of silks as Salmeo swept into her salon. He bowed, but only slightly, unable to pay the same kind of homage he was forced to give the Zar to a woman he saw at best as his equal, at worst the most important slave of his harem. Although, if the Zaradine were alive, Herezah would be relegated to only second most important. This thought pleased him as he straightened.

‘I thought it was urgent when you called for me, Valide.’

‘Did you? I lose track of time in this new role, Salmeo, but I have ordered some refreshment if that will console you.’

He noticed the disdain and the lack of apology for keeping him waiting for nearly a bell’s length. ‘And please call me Crown Valide. It is my proper title, as desired by the Zar. We must respect him in this,’ she said, her tone not quite hiding its sardonic edge.

A servant arrived with a tray and quickly laid out a jug with cups as Salmeo reined in his fury that had been stoked through the long wait in the corridor, his own Elim staring balefully at him and even the wretched Bin showing no respect in that impassive expression of his. ‘My apologies, Crown Valide, I shall certainly adhere to your wishes, although I would respectfully caution that we mustn’t get too used to the royal title. After all, your son will be gone only weeks and then it’s sadly back to the harem for you and for Ana.’

‘If she’s alive,’ Herezah commented, unfazed by his words of caution.

‘Indeed. But you are alive, Crown Valide, and I would hate for you to feel any more unsettled than you already have been since returning from the desert.’

‘It’s my welfare that you care about—is that what you’re saying, Salmeo?’ she queried, laughing.

He hated her calling him by his name, rather than his title. Salmeo wasn’t even his real name. His real name, Yokabi, meant chieftain or king. Power! ‘Salmeo’ had been forced upon him by the slavers when he had refused to reveal his true
name, given to him by his father, branded on his mother’s back as proof that she had birthed a new king. He let none of these angry thoughts show through his controlled, calm expression.

‘Crown Valide, I hope you would never question our longstanding relationship. We have known each for too many years.’ Salmeo could see by the way her eyebrows arched that Herezah understood precisely what his couched warning meant. But she clearly wanted him to say it in raw words.

‘Are you threatening me, eunuch?’

‘Threaten? Me, Crown Valide?’ he asked, feigning injury. ‘Absolutely not. I am simply reiterating my loyalty to you. I will keep to myself what has passed between us, certainly this past sixteen or seventeen moons, and I hope you will do me the same courtesy.’ He giggled softly. ‘We are, after all, a sister and brother of the harem. It is a world separate from the palace—we have our own rules, Crown Valide, our own ways.’

‘We must protect each other. Is that what you mean?’

‘Precisely, Crown Valide. I’m glad we understand one another,’ he lisped, satisfied.

‘I may understand you, eunuch, but you have to realise that my loyalties are being guided, no, driven, in a new direction. I am now responsible for the security and wellbeing of our realm. I am, to all intents and purposes, a queen, and I must act as autonomously as that role requires. I cannot be
limited or swayed by the needs of the harem. I have moved beyond its boundaries.’

‘For now, Crown Valide,’ he counselled carefully. ‘Soon you will be back within its confines—and then what?’

‘Well, Salmeo, I’m not sure it has to play out that way ultimately. I have plans, you see?’
No, he didn’t see, but he understood.
‘Right now I’m not at liberty to discuss those plans with you because they involve Crown business, and whilst my life must now revolve around the Crown, Grand Master Eunuch, yours unfortunately revolves entirely around a group of slave girls who are learning how to sexually satisfy my son.’

He understood so well, in fact, that in the few moments whilst she spoke, gazing at him over the top of her veil with eyes that smiled savagely, Salmeo made his decision. Far too long had he kowtowed to this woman—this cunning, disloyal whore who wasn’t worthy to stare at his feet, let alone stare into his eyes with such loathing. He was unacceptably vulnerable to her—and Salmeo knew the Zar would welcome any excuse he could legitimately use to rid the palace of the present Grand Master Eunuch. No. There would be no waiting for Herezah to make her move. It seemed more radical measures would need to be taken, and swiftly.

‘Pardon? My apologies, Crown Valide,’ he said evenly.

‘I asked if you were paying attention to me?’ Herezah demanded.

‘Forgive me, I felt momentarily lightheaded. The heat, you know, and the long wait. May I take a drink?’

‘Of course,’ Herezah replied, leaning back against her chair which was beautifully wrought and gilded, as she watched him struggle forward against his own bulk to pour himself a cup of grape cordial, its cloying sweetness cut with lemon juice and chilled water.

It was an excuse of course, a play for time, but he nevertheless welcomed the refreshment of the drink as it slid down his throat.

‘Better?’ she asked, clearly uncaring of whether he was feeling any brighter.

‘Much,’ he lied.

‘I was just telling you that tomorrow we are expecting an official visit from the Galinseans.’

Salmeo smiled. ‘Is that so?’

‘Yes. Apparently King Falza is sending his own emissary for a parley.’

Salmeo didn’t reply but adopted a quizzical expression to give the impression he was at least vaguely interested. But to his mind the parley was evidence enough that the Galinsean patience had worn thin. ‘And how can I assist you, Crown Valide?’

‘I need someone we trust more than any other to be my guard and servant. I am permitted only one person. It will be Elim, of course, as he’ll need to guide my barge.’

‘One of the mutes, perhaps?’

‘Salmeo, I don’t care who listens in on this. I’m fighting for our lives and I’m past being secretive about what might be said in royal company. I want you to select your best man. Strongest, most fearless.’

‘All Elim are strong and fearless, Crown Valide.’

‘Does that include you, Salmeo?’ she asked in a biting tone.

‘I am not Elim, Crown Valide.’

‘Well, I choose you anyway.’

‘Me?’ He was taken by surprise but his smile was entirely genuine when it stretched across his mouth.

‘I hope your size doesn’t preclude you from being able to steer me to my destination aboard the royal barge, Salmeo.’

Again he allowed her viciousness to slide past him as though he hardly heard her taunts. His tongue unconsciously flicked between the large gap in his front teeth. ‘It would be an honour to be at your side, Crown Valide.’

‘Good. Not that you had any choice in the matter. But I’m not asking for your presence because I need companionship, because I enjoy your company or out of any misplaced sense of friendship between harem members, Eunuch. I want your slippery, cunning mind listening in and advising. We can use Percherese and she will struggle to follow when we speak quietly and quickly between ourselves.’

She was extraordinarily misguided in thinking this was the way to repay his years of confidentiality.
All of a sudden she viewed herself a queen—feeling secure as a royal on her new throne—insulting him and baiting him in one breath whilst begging for his help in the next and expecting it to be given. He was not befuddled by her superior attitude nor was he intimidated by her deliberate discourtesy; instead Salmeo could plainly see that Herezah was unnerved by Falza’s move and suddenly needed the sort of help only the Grand Master Eunuch could provide. Except he’d run out of patience with this harem whore. He might have even helped her to escape had she taken a different attitude towards him. But now he couldn’t wait for tomorrow to arrive. ‘I understand, Crown Valide,’ he said, arching his fingers. ‘Perhaps you would be kind enough to send one of the Elim with details of where you want me to be and when.’

‘Yes, I’ll do that. Expect my runner, Salmeo, and on your way out tell Bin I wish to speak with him. That will be all.’ Herezah stood briskly and departed her salon for her personal chamber before the Grand Master Eunuch could even struggle to his feet and effect a bow.

Salmeo smiled and recalled something his father had said to him many years before in an effort to soothe the youngster over their capture by the slavers. He remembered his father, manacled, chained, to all intents humbled; and yet in his eyes a fire burned when he spoke to his son and said: ‘
The lion does not turn around when a small dog barks.
You are that lion, Yokabi, while
your slavers and those who will compel you, claiming superiority over you, are merely the dogs. Never forget that.’

He had not forgotten it and he would not ignore that advice now.

They had been travelling for almost the whole day and as much as he was thrilled to be away from the stifling nature of the palace and out into a world he barely knew existed, the novelty of the desert was already wearing thin. It was unspeakably hot—so arid that it sapped all desire to move, and if not for the ponderous but soothingly rhythmic progress of the camels, Boaz had to wonder how any traders moved forward across this wilderness. He had already lost sense of time, had been able to isolate his mind from everyone around him in this single day of mostly silent, slow travel. The hours in the saddle, the cocoon-like protection of the veil of his turban and the turning inward that the desert naturally prompted had pushed him deep into his own troubled thoughts.

According to Tariq, Zaradine Ana had cuckolded him—and apparently she’d managed to do this under the nose of the Valide. It sounded impossible; his mother, in particular, would have been itching to find any fault with Ana. But his mother had not said a bad word of either the Zaradine or the Spur. And even if he accepted that Lazar was suddenly his mother’s
favourite person, Ana would never be accorded that privilege. And how odd for Tariq to
suddenly
remember something so blatantly damning, especially at a time when it was obvious that the Grand Vizier’s dislike for the Spur had come to the fore again. For a while it seemed that Tariq’s obsession with Lazar had quietened to the point of no longer being an issue. But it was back, and they were baiting one another again. Was Tariq making up this terrible story? But then Boaz was reminded of the old Percherese saying:
If you can hear the river, the water is flowing
—no rumour or story was without some truth. So perhaps Tariq was not lying; perhaps the fright of their traumatic journey had caused him to temporarily forget what he saw that night in the desert. The deeper Boaz went into his private musings, the darker his thoughts became, the more silent and insular his world felt. Without Pez and with Ana’s and Lazar’s treachery he was truly alone. Joreb had always impressed upon Boaz that a Zar walks alone, no matter how many favourites and wives, no matter how many sons and daughters. How right his father had been.

He looked up and saw Lazar directly ahead, striding alongside his camel, falcon on his arm. The two Khalids, Salim and his daughter, also walked beside their beasts. Boaz hadn’t been concentrating. He slipped off his camel, which managed to make him smile, despite his mood, with what sounded like a grunt of thanks. Lazar
heard it too and slowed slightly to let Boaz and his camel catch up.