Emissary
Authors: Fiona McIntosh
For Mum and Dad…50 years! Amazing
The slave held a painted silk parasol above the woman’s head as she glided along, her face turned out towards the glistening Faranel. It was still only early spring but the women of the harem preferred to keep their complexions pale, unblemished by the harsh Percheron sun. This woman was slim, taller than she had been when the slave first remembered seeing her, and so much more curvy, but her hair—loosely plaited today—remained its familiar brightly golden colour. The eunuch slave had come to know her well these past eleven moons and so could sense her wistfulness this morning.
‘Are you in good health today, Odalisque Ana?’
‘I am, Kett, thank you for escorting me.’
‘You seem sad. Is there anything I can do for you?’
She smiled. ‘Dear Kett. I have always felt that is the precise question I should be asking you. After all you—’
The emasculation of Kett had always hung between them as an unspoken grief of an evening both had shared much despair over. On the night that Kett had been made a eunuch, Ana had also
been sold into the care of the palace and both had become instant prisoners of the harem. ‘Don’t, please, that was nearly a year ago and I am recovered and almost fully resigned to my situation.’ He shrugged. ‘It was never your fault.’
She knew this but it didn’t stop her feeling connected to him, sad for him. She stopped walking, pausing to stare out towards an island that was beyond the harbour but still under the watchful protection of the giant statues, Beloch and Ezram. ‘Why is my gaze always drawn there?’ she wondered aloud. ‘What is that place?’
Kett looked out to sea. ‘It is a leper colony, Miss Ana, and although I have never visited it, I gather it is very beautiful. Perhaps you are drawn to handsome, rugged, windswept things?’
In spite of her mood, she giggled her soft amusement at his words, and in touching his arm briefly, felt how his skin shivered at her small show of affection. ‘You make me smile, I’m fortunate to have you in the harem.’
‘But, Odalisque Ana,’ he exclaimed softly, ‘everyone loves you. You are the most popular of all the women.’
‘Not so popular with the Valide and the Grand Master Eunuch, I fear, although, Kett, I am really trying to fit in. I have not raised either’s ire in many a moon.’
‘And yet you stare out across the water, Miss Ana, searching to escape—in spirit perhaps, if not in body? This is dangerous.’
‘Ah, Kett, you know me better than anyone,’ she said sadly.
‘Only because I feel the same as you do. It is why I am only
almost
resigned to my situation. We both wish we could escape this place—am I right?’
‘Yes, although I could admit that to no-one else. I have given my word to those who care about me and made an oath to myself that I must not attempt to leave the harem again. I have learned that the repercussions often stretch painfully to others.’
‘You refer to Spur Lazar, I think?’
She flinched at the mention of his name. ‘The Spur is dead because of my irresponsible actions. I can never forgive myself.’
‘He would never blame you, Miss Ana. He wanted to protect you, that’s why he claimed Protectorship, took your punishment.’ Lazar’s story had spread like fanned flames through the harem, firing the hearts of the young women searching for romance in their lives whilst secretly knowing they would probably go to their graves and not find it in the harem.
‘I know but still I killed him,’ she said, unable to mask her pain. She changed the subject from the former Spur, still very much alive in her mind…and her heart. ‘And you, Kett, how do you cope with being a member of the harem? I suppose at least you have some small measure of freedom.’
‘I run errands for Grand Master Salmeo on occasion, yes.’
‘Do you ever think of running and never coming back?’ she asked, forcing brightness into her tone.
‘Always.’ He looked back at her, his wide-eyed look intense. ‘But on each occasion I have returned.’
Disappointed, Ana returned her gaze to Star Island, still wondering what magnet drew her attention there. ‘I wonder why?’ Ana said absently, finally turning to continue her journey into another part of the palace. She did not see the look on the eunuch slave’s face; did not appreciate the subtle message he had tried to pass to her. ‘I’m sure if I had your opportunity I might be tempted to break my word and my oath, for despite my strong words, the faith behind them is hollow, dear Kett. I think I am a liar to those around me and to myself.’
He hurried to dispel these notions. ‘Please, Miss Ana, do not utter such harsh rebuke against yourself.’
‘But it is true,’ she said, passing the sherbet rooms and waving to one of the girls who stared out from behind the latticed windows. ‘I want to believe I would keep my promise—really I do—but as I consider a whole lifetime stretching before me here as a prisoner of the harem, I think I would take any chance that came my way.’
‘And risk death?’
‘Yes,’ she answered without hesitation. ‘For this is a living death for me anyway,’ she added softly.
‘There is a story amongst the Elim about an odalisque who did escape from the harem once.’ Kett hadn’t meant to share this but it had spilled from his mouth anyway in an attempt to amuse her, to lift her spirits, or indeed anything that brought her out of her maudlin mood.
As she slowly walked Ana turned her head to stare gravely at her companion. ‘You jest, surely?’
Kett shook his head. ‘Only yesterday I watched the Grand Master Eunuch laughing at the tale—no-one is old enough to know if it’s true—that she persuaded one of the bundle women to carry her out in the bundle itself. The young odalisque escaped that way.’
‘For ever?’ she asked, halting, incredulous.
‘Hush,’ he said, eyes frightened, gaze searching for eavesdroppers. ‘Let us continue, Miss Ana.’ He guided her forward once again.
Ana persisted. ‘Do you mean she was never returned to the harem?’
‘Apparently. Salmeo said it would never happen under his keep.’
‘How did the odalisque do it?’ Ana demanded in a tight whisper. ‘What did she offer the woman?’
‘She stole something and used it to bribe the bundle woman. The older Elim didn’t say what it was. Sounds as though it was many years ago,’ he
said, wondering whether he might live to regret sharing this tale of escape, for he could see in her eyes how it fired her imagination. ‘Come, Miss Ana, you cannot be late for His Majesty.’
‘Forgive me for dawdling, but I am intrigued by your tale, Kett.’
‘Not too intrigued, I hope. I would hate to lose you,’ and then he added hastily, ‘so would all the girls of the harem.’
‘You’re very kind. Here come the Zar’s men,’ she said, noticing the two Elim approaching. ‘I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy these meetings with Zar Boaz. He is a very good conversationalist. We even talk in different languages sometimes. I test him on his Galinsean.’
‘Are you better than him?’ Kett asked, impressed, still holding the parasol aloft until he was formally relieved of his duty by the mutes.
‘A little,’ Ana admitted conspiratorially. ‘I have a natural tongue for language I’m told, although linguistic skills are of little use to me here,’ she added.
‘You never know,’ Kett said. ‘I imagine the Zar will choose you soon, Miss Ana. It is obvious how fond of you he is.’
‘Not too soon, I pray,’ Ana replied before fixing her veil across her face. ‘Thank you for the story of the odalisque, Kett. I know you told it to cheer me up and it has.’ She smiled softly, reassuringly at his trusting eyes before she turned
to address the mutes, who were upon them now, with a gentle nod of her head. ‘Farewell, Kett. Think of me when you roam that bazaar.’
He grinned and handed the parasol to the mute, Salazin, who would now escort the odalisque into the private chambers of the Zar.
As he watched her petite figure retreat, dwarfed by the special mute warriors who formed an elite guard for the Zar, Kett wondered when his former childhood playmate, Boaz, would take Ana for his Favourite. He suspected it wouldn’t be long now, for the Zar was nearing seventeen and Ana had emerged from beautiful child to an exquisite woman. He sighed as he realised he would very soon be forced to love this woman not just from afar as he had this past year, but as another man’s wife.
Three moons later
…
It was Pez’s idea but it was Zafira who had found him, had seen the potential; still it came as a shock to appreciate how skilled he was. She feared for the young man but his uncannily calm manner and quiet confidence convinced her. His reward was not even money, which made it harder for her, and when she did press him for his reason for taking on such personal risk he had staggered her by confiding that all he wanted to do was serve the Goddess. At his tender age what could he know about Lyana and yet he had impressed upon her that he was called to this dangerous task and Lyana had brought them together.
She had been lost for words and now Pez seemed to echo all the same anxieties even though it was his plan and she simply the expediter of the audacious concept. She had hoped he would ooze the usual confidence—needed him to—but it seemed he was as unnerved as she by this youngster.
They sat in a small room stirred gently by a soft breath of wind that had made a journey
halfway up the hillside of Percheron from the sea. They could see the harbour from here. The massive giant statues of Beloch and Ezram gazed out across the Faranel, ever watchful for the long-feared raid that hadn’t come in centuries.
‘How does an orphanage command such a view?’ Pez wondered aloud.
‘I gather the palace gave it over to widowed Percherese Guard women. Down the decades those families were given better care; housed separately, given a stipend from the royal coffers and this building became defunct until one Zar gifted it to the orphans of Percheron. It’s still known as the Widows’ Enclave.’
‘It’s wonderful.’
‘Yes, although there’s talk of that magnanimous act being revoked now.’
‘Surely not?’ Pez frowned, unable to imagine Boaz making such a claim.
‘So the sisters quietly claim.’
‘What would the Zar want it for?’
‘Not the Zar. I think his newly intimate adviser has designs on it.’
Pez pulled a face of disgust. ‘Tariq is certainly carving a new role for himself.’
‘Well that is his role, of course. But according to what you’ve told me in the past it sounds as though our last Zar never chose to have his close counsel.’
‘And who could blame Joreb? The odd thing is that Boaz always despised the man as much as his father did.’
Zafira nodded. ‘I saw Vizier Tariq the other day—’
‘That’s Grand Vizier Tariq, Zafira,’ Pez interrupted, grimacing. ‘It’s amazing what nearly a year’s worth of constant ingratiation can achieve,’ he added bitterly.
‘What is it, Pez?’ she enquired gently. ‘Has Boaz cast you aside?’
The dwarf shook his great head. ‘No, but he doesn’t look to me for all of his companionship now.’
‘He’s coming up towards seventeen; he had to grow up some time, my friend. You’ve been his confidant for many years. He’s just spreading his wings a little,’ she reasoned. ‘He has a man’s job to do—little wonder he had to cast off childhood so fast.’
‘True.’ Pez sighed. ‘I just wish it wasn’t Tariq’s arms he walked into though,’ he complained, adding with a tone of frustration, ‘the man’s undergone some sort of metamorphosis.’
‘Well how odd that you say this,’ Zafira said, leaning forward eagerly. ‘I was telling you that I saw him the other day. We passed each other around the main fountain in the market and I hardly recognised him—not that he would know me from a goat.’
Pez didn’t appreciate her soft jest. He was still frowning, deep in thought. He aired them now. ‘Curious, isn’t it?’
‘Am I deceiving myself?’
Pez gave a derisive smirk. ‘No, I’ve noticed it too. Younger, straighter, more…what is it?’ he said, searching for the word. ‘More presence. The old Tariq was weak and his greatest weakness was craving attention from the royals. This newly invented Tariq exudes absolute confidence. He needs no endorsement from anyone, it seems. I swear he all but treats the Valide Zara with disdain.’
‘Well, so do you,’ she reminded.
‘But I’m mad, remember…and rude to everyone, especially Herezah whenever I can find the opportunity. Tariq has all of his faculties intact and he openly does not suffer fools gladly.’
‘Are you saying the Valide is a fool?’
Pez gave some semblance of a rueful grin. ‘Far from it, but I sense she’s as baffled as I by this relationship that seems to deepen by the day.’
‘And you? How does he regard you?’
‘Tariq? I sense that he’s suspicious of me. He watches me carefully. He thinks I don’t notice but I am aware of his constant attention.’
‘What is he suspicious of?’
‘He can’t know the truth of my sanity, I’m sure of this, but it’s as if he suspects there’s more to me than meets the eye and so he keeps watching for some sign.’
‘Iridor?’ she posed, her voice a whisper.
Pez shook his head. ‘He wouldn’t even know who he is. Why would he suspect that?’
She shrugged, still kept her voice low. ‘If you have magic, why not others?’ she suggested and
then moved on to more logical argument. ‘Perhaps it’s more that he’s jealous of your relationship with Boaz.’
‘It could be. That would make sense and yet I feel as though I’m in a contest as to when I’ll make my mistake and whether he’ll see it. He is searching for any slip, any small sign that I am not what everyone believes me to be.’
‘That does sound paranoid if you don’t accept that he knows something.’
‘How can stupid Tariq know anything? It doesn’t add up, but then neither does his behaviour over the past year. I need to be more attentive.’
‘Then I understand your curious idea.’
Pez moved restlessly to the window to watch the children playing a boisterous game of pigball in the courtyard. ‘Are you sure about him?’
‘He’s astounding, Pez. He can do it but can you do it to him?’
‘There are bigger things at stake than individual lives, Zafira.’
‘Except, lose enough individually and you can lose a nation,’ she counselled softly.
‘Don’t preach to me,’ he said, but without any heat.
‘I just need to be sure that you understand the stakes. His life is what you’re gambling with, not yours.’
‘I’m aware of it, priestess, no need to remind me.’ There was a spike of irritation now.
She responded in kind, angry that Pez wasn’t
helping assuage her own guilt. In truth Zafira was angry at herself for agreeing to this madness. ‘He doesn’t want your money, either!’
‘Pardon?’ Pez said, swinging around to face her. This was entirely unexpected. ‘What does he want?’
‘Nothing we can give. He serves Lyana apparently.’
Pez’s expression changed swiftly from confusion to incredulity. ‘And you accept this?’
‘He made it clear that she had called upon him and asked this gift of a life from him.’
‘Do you believe him?’
‘I believe in her—that goes without saying. But I believe he’s true, yes. It occurred in a dream when he was very small. She has come to him frequently since, he says, and he knows the name Iridor but not what it signifies.’
Pez now looked deeply troubled. ‘I’d prefer him to accept the money,’ he admitted.
‘I imagine it would ease your conscience. A fair exchange you could say.’
‘Zafira—’ Pez began and this time there was a tone of angry exasperation.
She interrupted him, equally frustrated. ‘I’m sorry, Pez, but I am fearful for this boy. What he is prepared to shoulder is frightening. We both know that should our clever plan be discovered he will not be given an easy death.’
The dwarf’s irritation dissipated. His head dropped in resignation. ‘I know it.’
The priestess heard such depth of emotion in those three words that she hurried to soothe her friend’s troubled soul—and her own as well, no doubt. ‘You have equipped him well, Pez. I would be lying if I told you that he’s not ready.’
‘I hope so.’ He found a sad smile. ‘Tell Lazar I shall visit later today. We have things to discuss. How is he?’
‘Oh the usual. Angry, distant, scowling, handsome, exasperating. Need I go on?’
Pez smiled genuinely for the first time during their meeting. ‘Sounds like the old Lazar.’
She nodded, reflecting his smile. ‘I think he is recovered physically, yes.’
‘Not emotionally, though.’ He said it for her.
‘Ana has scarred his heart. There are times I could wish the two had never met.’
‘And none of this would have happened? No, Zafira. This is Lyana’s work. She is manipulating all of us. Lazar and Ana were meant to meet but I don’t understand why or the purpose of such a brief meeting and one so marked by such pain and suffering on both sides.’
‘The Goddess works in mysterious ways, Pez. Let that be a comfort.’
‘It’s cold comfort but I’m glad our man is back. Now we have to discover his purpose.’
‘He may have already served it by nearly dying.’
Pez shook his head. ‘No. Lyana has more in store for the former Spur. We just have to be patient.’