Goddess (39 page)

Always she was alone. She vented her despair now, calling Lyana’s name.

Maliz had no intention of leaving just yet but there was only limited water and a few morsels of food left at the bottom of a sack he’d found in the camel shelter, no doubt left from the previous day’s riding. There certainly wasn’t enough to sustain one person, let alone two. Ganya had been an encumbrance; he was glad to have done away with her. He’d been disturbed by the way she had looked at him sideways when he had been Tariq. And now he knew why. Ganya must have been aware of the demon, and had probably known who he’d disguised himself within. How could she know this? The only explanation, he realised, was that Lazar knew.

Rot him!
He almost hoped that Lazar survived the Samazen so that he could ultimately kill him himself. That would have been easy if he were still Boaz, of course; not so easy as Ashar.
Zarab rot him
twice over!
If Lazar hadn’t worked it out, hadn’t attacked Boaz, he could be travelling as a Zar right now with women and self-indulgence at his beck and call, not to mention a healthy, young body in which to move. Nevertheless, Ashar’s body was wiry and tough, and no matter how disgusted he felt to have lost the Zar’s cover, he was grateful he’d taken the precaution of working on the young Razaqin. What a tragic boy he had been—idealistic, a head full of delusions. He had been easy prey.

And Ganya was just as gullible, even sitting in front of him on the camel, still believing she was protecting her baby brother. Stupid woman! Getting to the camp had been easy with his heightened powers of direction; he never doubted that they would reach this cover but he was still relieved that the Samazen’s fury had dissipated. Though it could be back with a vengeance in the morning, he had every intention of making the most of its quieter time. He lay down; he would sleep in the warmth that Ganya’s corpse offered him. A few hours, that was all; he would leave before dawn. Taking the precaution of wrapping the camel’s reins around his fist, Maliz slept soundly with a soft smile playing around Ashar’s lips.

Herezah and Bin had spent what was left of the night staring out over the Faranel and she was sure the servant could sense, as well as she could, that dawn was on the rim of the sky. The killing would begin soon.

‘Have you counted?’ she asked, as though they were waking from a long sleep rather than an interminable sorrowful silence.

‘Forty, I think.’

‘Probably more,’ she said. ‘Not that it matters.’

Bin stood and, she noted, stretched surreptitiously, so as not to give offence. The polite servant to the end. She wondered again how she had missed so much about the many faithful people around her. She regretted it. Regretted it all, in fact.

‘I will do one final check around the palace, Crown Valide, so I can brief you on its status,’ Bin said, breaking into her thoughts as he bowed in farewell.

‘Bin, I can’t turn back time, although I would like to. For now let me just say a rather humble thank you. I realise there have been too many
times when I’ve not bothered to say it, and, in truth, not even felt the sentiment.’

He nodded and she was pleased that he did not try to protest. She liked him all the more for that moment of absolute honesty.

‘If by some miracle we live through this, Crown Valide, it would be my desire to serve you as a royal in your own right, not simply as wife to a former Zar, or mother to our present one. If our own Zar should not return—’

‘Do not say it, Bin, I beg you.’

‘But we must consider the possibility, not just of our own deaths, but that of the line of Zars as we know it, Crown Valide. Let us imagine, just for this last moment of peace, that Zar Boaz has met his fate in the desert, that he has passed without a known living heir. And let us just say that you somehow survive today and whatever terror awaits Percheron, I would not hesitate to suggest that you, and only you—with the right counsel—are fit to rule Percheron until a solution can be found, a new dynasty begun. I would go so far as to say that you yourself, as the most recent Valide, may even have to consider bearing us a new Zar. It has no precedent, to my knowledge—perhaps Percheron enters a new era.’

‘A matriarchal one?’ she asked, dazzled by his near blasphemous suggestion.

‘Why not? At least until your new son can take his rightful place.’

‘Let us both survive this day, Bin, and perhaps
we’ll be discussing your audacious notion with Falza across the treaty table.’

He gave a shy smile. ‘I will away to my duties, Crown Valide.’

‘And I shall get dressed in the manner befitting a queen at war,’ she said archly.

Lazar awoke refreshed; all his previous dizziness and distress had left him. He was no longer feverish or disoriented, could feel no pain or wounds. The weeping burn that he had hardly noticed during the panicked escape, but that had forced him to clench his teeth during the camel journey, had miraculously disappeared. He was healed for now.

‘Lyana?’ he called.

We are not her. We are her sentinel
, answered the pillars, their colours turning and swirling.

‘What do you guard?’

Her
, they chimed softly to him.
And you
.

‘Where is Ana?’

As you left her
.

‘But I have been asleep.’

Only moments
, they reassured.
She is nearing her time but she is resting
.

‘You welcomed me as the Amalgama. What does it mean?’

You are the unification
, the pillars chorused.
You are the central pillar, Lucien Lazar. Around you Lyana has built her battle. Everything she has put in place for this cycle has been built around your
role. You are her champion, her protector, her father. She must remain hidden for a few years more until our Goddess is no longer a helpless infant. But you are the blending point for all her believers and supporters.

‘I need you to explain this Amalgama for me. Forgive me for not being able to make whatever leap you need me to.’

You have united with Ana to form the child who will carry Lyana. Furthermore, this son of yours must be united with his throne. That is your role.’

‘Wait! I thought that was Arafanz’s role.’

We needed second and third plans, Lucien Lazar. I know it may not feel this way to you but much of how this cycle turned out was left to fate. Lyana is counting on certain people to fulfil their roles but she doesn’t have as much control over mortals as perhaps you think she has. She could only set up the plan and hope that you could follow it.

‘You mean Arafanz is merely a contingency?’ he asked, aghast. ‘People have lost their lives brutally because of him and yet he is only following his mad pathway in the event of unforeseen circumstances?’ Lazar’s voice had risen and become demanding.

The pillars appeared to dull momentarily, as if sighing.
Lyana asks your forgiveness but she could not know how all your lives would unfold. As it is, we came perilously close to losing you to unexpected circumstances.

‘Didn’t you have a contingency plan for me?’ he
asked, pacing aggressively, feeling trapped by the crystal pillars.

It is very important that Luc—as he shall be called—become the next Zar of Percheron. You will be the amalgam that brings Percheron together with Galinsea to forge a partnership so strong—in its politics, its trade and especially its faith—that the region will never again be under threat. To answer your original question, you are the unifying factor who will pick up the pieces of what is left behind from this cycle and repair them.

You are the common factor between Galinsea and Percheron. You are the common factor between the people and royalty; both sides trust you. You are the mortal—with an ear to the gods.

‘And Maliz?’

Lyana will destroy him
.

‘How?’

That is her burden. It is not yours, Lucien Lazar. You have already fulfilled so much of what she needed from you. Now you must help Ana deliver your son and he must be returned to Percheron immediately. War comes—it begins today. You and he alone can prevent the Galinseans from sacking the city
.

‘Today!’ Lazar cried. ‘But how am I supposed to return in time to save anything?’

Search yourself. You have the answer and the means. But Ana needs you now.

Suddenly he could hear her wails that had been shut out from him, presumably by the pillars.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ he beseeched.

She does. Trust Ana.

Lazar was at her side in moments. Her breath was coming in shallow pants.

‘He comes, Lazar. Our son arrives. Quickly! Get me onto the plinth.’

‘Don’t move, I can—’

‘No,’ she cried. ‘I must be over there, where you just were. I need to speak with her. She will help me.’

Rather than upset Ana further he picked her up easily. She moaned as he took her up the stairs again, laying her down softly amid the intense colour of Lyana’s crystal pillars.

‘Stay with me, Lazar,’ she begged.

‘I won’t leave you, I promise,’ he said, holding her hand, ‘but I don’t know what to do.’

‘Sit behind me. Let me feel you against me,’

As he moved around Ana so that she could lean her upper half against his chest she began a deep groaning sound and started to push.

He felt helpless but recalled that while all of his father’s bitches, who had delivered litters of pups, had enjoyed the nearness of the people they loved, they had nevertheless gone about the business of birthing by withdrawing into themselves. He sensed Ana was doing just that as she instinctively began the final sorrowful journey with her baby as it made its way out of her body.

He took her hands, wrapped his arms around her and held her close as she began to bear down and deliver the next Zar of Percheron and the future King of Galinsea.

Herezah was ready to face her death. She had dressed in a sombre charcoal robe and wore no jewellery; her hair was tied in a simple plait at the back of her head. The Crown Valide looked at herself in the mirror and smiled wryly. In days gone by she would almost certainly have opted to look as dazzling as she could. She would have chosen ivory so that, should Falza draw her blood, she would look stark and memorable in death. Even to the end, the old Herezah would have ensured as much theatre as possible. But not any more. She couldn’t pinpoint when anything in herself had changed; it had begun in the desert and developed over the time she had spent nursing Lazar. Those months watching Lazar suffer, then slowly bringing him back to good health, had easily been the happiest time of her life. She had smiled a great deal, she had felt an intense glow of pleasure at touching him as she nursed him and watching his body respond to her gentle ministrations. She had felt complete for the first time in her life. It had been short-lived but she couldn’t forget how good it had felt to care. And though none of the desire to rule, none of the cunning, had left her, her idea of ruling had changed from that desire for power to a desire to be an impressive Crown Valide who her people would respect and remember. Her cunning she wanted to use for the good of Percheron now,
rather than for herself. Lazar had been right. What a great Valide she could have been if she’d put all her skills to use in supporting Boaz rather than trying to manipulate him.

‘I’ve laid out the cream silks, Crown Valide, if you prefer them?’ Elza offered, breaking into her thoughts.

Herezah could hear the servant’s disapproval. Normally she wouldn’t care what a mere handmaiden thought but she surprised herself by explaining. ‘No, the darker colour is best, Elza. Should anything unpleasant occur today, I don’t want to make it easy for the Galinseans to show off my bloodied corpse, frightening our people.’ She could see the surprise and unabashed respect in the woman’s face. ‘Let’s not fuss any further. This will do. You’ve hidden the jewels?’

Elza nodded. ‘As instructed. Everthing we could find from your collection is in a sealed box submerged in the Daramo.’

‘Excellent. I don’t want them dividing them up among Falza’s daughters.’

‘How many does he have?’

‘I don’t even know if he has one. I don’t care. Those jewels belong to Percheron. Her waters can claim them if Boaz never returns to raise them.’

Bin burst through the doors. ‘Forgive me, Crown Valide. It has begun.’

‘What’s happening?’ she asked, rushing towards the windows.

‘The Galinseans have begun coming ashore.’

‘Yes, I can see,’ she said, her insides twisting as she saw the mass of men in the distance moving out of the flotilla of rowboats that were arriving at the city’s edge. ‘Captain Ghassal is to offer no resistance. Does he understand my orders?’

‘Yes, Crown Valide, but he is not happy about them. He believes Spur Lazar would be ashamed of the Protectorate.’

‘Spur Lazar is not here to lead our men. Ghassal’s bravery is not in question, nor that of our soldiers. But we cannot win this, Bin, so it is right that I order we don’t fight back. Let Falza come and take the city with as little damage to it or its people as possible. It’s the royals he wants and the crushing of the palace hierarchy. Let’s make it as easy as possible. No amount of senseless sacrifice will allow us to scare them off.’

‘I understand your rationale, Crown Valide, but I suspect if the Galinseans start burning the city, Ghassal will act as he sees best.’

‘That is his choice and his death sentence. Elza, it is time for you to leave. I want you to get into plain clothing and go into the courtyards.’

‘I am too scared, Crown Valide.’

‘Listen to me. Whatever they do to you out there, it is safer than what they’ll do if they discover you to be a personal servant to royalty. Do not be found here. Now go!’

Elza’s eyes were full of tears. ‘But, Crown Valide—’

‘Go!’ Herezah ordered. ‘You too, Bin.’

‘No,’ he said softly as Elza fled the chamber. ‘They will have to cut me down before they reach you.’

‘Zarab curse you! I thought we’d agreed,’ she hurled at him.

‘You agreed, Crown Valide. I will make my own decision as to how I conduct myself. This is my choice. You can ganche me later if we all survive.’

She felt only gratitude. ‘I shall think of something far more horrible, trust me. Your disobedience is noted.’

He nodded and bowed. ‘Let me escort you to the Grand Salon, Your Majesty.’

She looked at him, startled. ‘I don’t think—’

‘I do. You are our royalty now, Crown Valide, and we should treat you with the respect you deserve and have lately earned. When they come, we will awe them with the beauty of the Palace and its remaining royal.’

She smiled bravely ‘Come then, Bin. Our executioners await.’

Captain Ghassal had no intention of laying down arms to the Galinseans. No matter what the Crown Valide demanded of him, he was answerable to her son, the Zar, but first and foremost to the Spur. And Spur Lazar would never condone this spineless approach. Only a woman would. These were fighting men, trained for war. He could feel their eagerness, their sense of invincibility. They were young, their city was
being invaded by the hated Galinseans. No, none of them would be handing over their weapons or their lives without a fight. Captain Ghassal would take whatever punishment was meted out for disobedience, but he doubted very much that he would survive this day, and he refused to have Spur Lazar hear that his trusted second-in-command had behaved meekly.

The Crown Valide’s servant, Bin, had been told that the Protectorate would submit but the captain had already laid ambushes all over the city. Each of his lieutenants knew that from the moment the Galinseans began destroying the city—and he was sure Falza’s soldiers would—the Percherese must act to protect their treasures. ‘Death to the barbarians,’ he muttered under his breath as he watched the first load disembark from their rowboats.

‘Death to the barbarians!’ he now yelled at the top of his lungs. His men began loosing their shafts in a hail of arrows that rained down from the hillsides of Percheron onto the scrambling soldiers.

How could a woman possibly understand? Ghassal mused to himself. How could she know that the Percherese had the advantage? That’s why the city was built this way. No enemy came from the desert. The enemy could only approach by sea and his army had the vantage of height and vision. He would kill every filthy invader before he even had a chance to feel Percherese soil beneath his feet.