The Gems of Raga-Tor (Elemental Legends Book 1) (16 page)

The second soldier approached Raga with an amused look that he was unsuccessfully trying to hide.

“Pardon, merchant,” he said, intending for only Raga to hear, but Eris leaned imperceptibly closer.

“I have a proposition for you. Should the Sultan decide not to take your wench, then I should like to purchase her. I prefer my women with a little fire in them. And being a man of modest means, I would hope we can come to an equitable price.”

“Then you will still show us in even in spite of this insufferable display of impudent behavior?” Raga asked.

“Of course, my friend. Either way I’m going to win. Either I’ll get your girl, or I’ll have a nice fat purse. After all, a man like our Sultan also has uses for women who are a little difficult to manage. I’ll even put in a good word for you,” the soldier offered and nudged Raga in the ribs.

“Sap-faced milkworm,” Eris cursed under his breath as they were lead into the palace and Raga squeezed his elbow in warning.

The interior of the immense building was cool and comfortable. The long entrance hall was in shadow as the sun was setting, but farther ahead where Eris saw the Sultan sitting on a multicolored mound of pillows, the light was brighter and seemed brighter still for all the gold that decorated the walls of the room where he held court.

The building was an interesting, even awe-inspiring display of engineering mastery and technique infused with the art and craft of hundreds of craftsmen.

Each piece of verd antique marble used in the construction had been precisely cut and fitted to form walls and floors. Buttresses of that same non-indigenous marble soared halfway to the ceiling and supported great arched spans that created an immense vaulted ceiling.

Nearer to the floor Eris saw a multitude of shallow troughs flowing with clear water and heard the splashing cascade of a water fountain. Passing one pool of water, he was surprised to see a small group of large, colorful fish swim by.

Looking at the massive structure of the building, Eris felt an inkling of doubt as to how he was going to be able to get out. There were windows aplenty, but they were at least twenty spans from the ground. And what few doors there were, were guarded by no less than three guards.

He was sure there were hundreds of doors and passages beyond the two archways that lead out of the Sultan’s great hall and hoped they were structured in some fashion emulating the city streets; neat and organized, not a labyrinth of twists and turns.

The small group lead by the guards stopped several paces from where the Sultan sat. He was surrounded, in all probability, by some of the girls he favored and wished them to remain until he made his final choice. Behind the cushion throne stood three men who were likely his advisors, and a fourth, owing to the simplicity of his dress, was his medical practitioner. Behind them, Eris swallowed hard, were six eunuchs dressed in crimson pantaloons and white turbans that sported a spray of black feathers in the front. They were bare-chested except for the gold chains they wore around their sun-bronzed necks. Most wore earrings in one or both ears and their chunky fingers shimmered with gold bands and precious stones.

The Sultan was an imposing figure. Tall, broad shouldered and edging toward portliness, his eyes indicated a more than average intelligence, and the firm line of his mouth spoke of intolerance to any nay saying of his wishes. His average looking face was pleasant when he smiled, but his mustache and short, pointed beard, flecked with gray, indicated his need to produce a son and educate him before his reign ended.

“How many this time?” the Sultan asked, bored, and he took a drink from his golden goblet.

“If it pleases your Excellency, we have brought the final five maidens. The rest, Excellency, we believe to be nothing more than trollops seeking your favor,” the first guard explained.

“Very well. Present these and then I shall make my final decision.”

Raga and Eris found themselves at the end of the line through the maneuverings of the other guard. In this way, he would have time to speak with the Sultan about the treasure he’d found.

“I’ve never seen a girl dance so well,” Eris whispered, as the third of them finished her dance in a frenzied whirl.

“That’s only because you can’t see what you can do,” Raga said confidently.

“Try not to let that spell get out of hand. I don’t want to make a fool of myself any more than I have to. Why can’t some of these people go home or something,” Eris said, discreetly taking the two packets of magical powder from Raga.

“Don’t be nervous. We’ll do just fine," Raga assured him.

“You there,” the Sultan finally called to Raga. “You may step forward and present your girl for my consideration.”

“Yes, Excellency,” Raga said respectfully. He bowed low and escorted Eris to stand before the Sultan.

“May I not look upon her face?” he asked and held up his cup for a refill.

“If it pleases your Excellency, I would rather you watch her exquisite performance first. And, begging your pardon, I would ask that you allow me the use of my own musicians. They play the music of her land much better than yours—on such short notice, that is,” Raga said.

The Sultan looked surprised by Raga’s boldness, but said, “As you wish. Bring in your musicians. This girl of yours isn’t pock-marked is she?”

“No, Excellency, I assure you she is quite breathtaking.” Raga turned and focused his attention on the arched doorway to the right of the dais.

A group of six illusory musicians entered the main hall from one of the side halls, and seated themselves on the floor not far from the colorful throne. They sat quietly and stared at the instruments they held in their hands.

“Might I at least know the name of this woman?”

Raga paused for a moment, then responded pleasantly. “Her name is Erisa, Excellency.”

The Sultan smiled and turned to one of his advisors.

“I don’t believe we’ve had one by that name.”

“No, we haven’t,” a gaunt-faced man replied.

“Tis a very unusual name for a woman,” the Sultan commented.

“Indeed, Excellency, but as you shall see, she is a very unusual woman.” Raga led Eris to the center of the great hall. Leaving him standing there, Raga walked away and the room’s brilliant light dimmed ever so slowly, unnoticeably, as all eyes focused on the shrouded figure standing solitary in the center of the expansive room.

Raga reminded. “
Remember, relax and let yourself flow with the music. I’m going to work the spell the same as last time, just to make sure you don’t fall down. Stay on the floor until I come to get you, because I’m going to use another ‘tiny’ spell on you so you’ll recover faster.”

“Fine, as long as you make sure I don’t say, or do, anything I’ll regret later.”

Eris took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart and to ease the tension in his shoulders. It was one thing to perform this absurdity in front of Raga, but it was something all together different to do it in front of a room full of people ready to pounce on his every move, criticize his every flaw.
Or,
the voice of Erisa whispered,
for every man to lust after every supple curve and sensuous twist of his body
.

The familiar strains of Raga’s supernatural music filled the room. It was so mournful, so strange it immediately enthralled every ear.

The intriguing feeling of pleasurable abandonment swept over Eris. As before, he threw the powder to the floor and spun slowly as he untied the cloak and allowed its flowing folds to disperse the misty powder and finally flung it away. His audience
g
asped at the sight, and sighed as they watched Erisa’s perfect red-gold form materialize, writhing and swaying, from the center of the mist that roiled up from the floor. His ebony locks floated as he whirled and made a sharp contrast against the brilliant red fabric and flawless bare skin.

As the dance progressed, the heat of exertion tinged his cheeks with the delicate color of the rose. The diamonds twinkled like a thousand stars in the faint light of the dim hall. His prancing steps brought him within several paces of the assembled court where he vaguely noticed that the Sultan had actually left his seat and was standing on the bottom step of the dais. The odious guard stood nearby whispering his tale to him.

This time the dance seemed endless to Eris as he glided with whispering steps traversing the room several more times.

From somewhere in the room he heard faint sobs coming from the previously chosen girls as they realized they would not be chosen for the honor, such as it was, but prayed to their gods that the Sultan would keep them and not return them to the cruel hands of their slavers.

Eris knew the Sultan had fallen for their trap. The man’s face told him all he needed to know. The realization that he was a step closer to the gem gave his final steps an extra air of sparkling vivacity that surprised even Raga.

As he sank to the floor, alertness returned more quickly than before, and silence filled the enormous room.

Raga’s two spells tugged his emotions in opposite directions making him feel almost drunk. He was glad to sit on the cool marble to catch his breath and let the whirling in his brain settle. Hearing more than one pair of feet approaching, he raised his head slightly.

Raga hurried to head off the Sultan, who was also walking quickly across the polished marble. Eris felt his stomach knot. Not even a Sultan was above allowing his face to display his all-too-ardent intentions.

“Please, Excellency,” Raga said, and Eris cursed him for speaking as though he was begging. “I will bring her to the throne where you can see her beauty in the fullness of the light.”

“You will be quick. I’m very desirous to see this woman,” the Sultan said, stealing a look back over his shoulder as he returned to the dais.

“I’ll bet you are,” Eris muttered crossly.

“I heard that. Don’t start your nonsense again.” Raga bent down. “Here, let me help you.”

“Why does everyone have to look at me with such ogling lust? I ought to carry a pail to catch their drool,” Eris complained, as he took a few teetering steps.

“It’s all a part of the curse. You know that. I don’t understand your indignation. Your conceit feeds on that admiration when you’re a man.” Raga held Eris tightly to make sure he didn’t trip until the spells wore off completely.

“That’s a completely different matter. I can choose to accept or ignore it as I choose. In this form, I compromise myself if I accept. If I ignore it, I end up fighting for my life as I did with Slott.”

“Just don’t start any fights until you have that gem around your neck and are coming out of this place.” Raga took Eris’ hand and placed it on top of his upraised arm as was proper etiquette for a lady.

“Excellency, may your humble servant present to you the Lady Erisa, from the Land of the Night Vales, the tribes of the Valerosso,” Raga announced with a nod of his head. Eris made a swan-like curtsey to the floor.

“You may indeed,” the Sultan said, barely able to restrain himself and pushed the boundaries of his own required decorum. “Physician, your opinion of the exquisite maiden.”

The physician, as Eris had surmised previously, was a tiny, rat-like man and stepped down from his place on the dais. He rubbed his chin with a thin hand as he made a complete circle around Eris, scrutinizing every little detail.

“In my opinion, she is well suited for the task at hand. She appears to be extremely healthy,” he reported.

The Sultan smiled and came off the step to take both of Eris’ hands in his. He leaned forward and kissed him on both cheeks, then turned to Raga.

“You’ve done well, my good man. She’s obviously a woman from a good family, unlike the street trash I’ve been presented with. Had I been able to see her on the first day, my search would have been over. But, at last, she is here and you shall have the prize I offered.”

As if on cue, one of the eunuchs brought forward a small, jewel-encrusted coffer. He lifted the lid to show Raga its contents. Inside was a generous handful of heavy gold coins and a score or more of the sparkling jewels that had come from the desert sands.

“His Excellency is too kind,” Raga said, making another bow and accepted the box of treasure.

The Sultan waved him off and turned to face his court.

“Let it be recorded that I, Umar al Ghazi, Sultan of Reshan and the Imperial City of Ulna Karahm, Guardian of the Ruby Sands, shall take this maiden, Erisa by name, to be my lawful wife and recognized mother of my only legitimate heirs. Let it be so,” he announced. He turned back to Eris and spoke quietly. “You shall be the flower of my garden and the star of my night, beautiful Erisa. All honor shall be accorded you by all of Reshan, and I shall present you with the most prized possession a man can give.”

“I hope he’s talking about the gem.”
Eris struggled not to cringe as he suffered through another round of kisses to his cheeks.

“I hope so too.”
Raga wrinkled his nose in disgust as he watched the Sultan kiss Eris and run his hands along the smooth skin of his arms. It jolted him to remember that only the night before he had done the same, but that was very different, he rationalized. This felt akin to sending a favored child into captivity to secure a treaty or agreement, yet the feelings of yester eve that he struggled to deny were anything but.

Watching the Sultan’s eyes devour Eris’ form, Raga felt a sense of unease and dismay about what Eris was about to do, or might be forced to do. They both knew what they were facing weeks ago when the plan was formed, but somehow the reality of it never seemed real until a moment ago, at least not to him. He shivered inwardly and turned his thoughts away from Eris. Oddly, he felt guilty about the turn of events rather than pleased. Maybe they should have thought longer, played out more scenarios and come up with a different plan. Then again, it was the loss of time neither of them could afford. Raga tried to convince himself of that.

“Raga, where are you?”
Eris thought when he felt the sorcerer’s presence draw away from him. “
Tell me what to do next. How do I know when this ceremony will be?”