Emissary (14 page)

‘I’m assured the Zar’s clown travels way beyond the boundaries of the palace and into the city!’ Maliz grumbled, no longer able to disguise his discontent.

Now the man shrugged. ‘He is disobedient,’ was the only reply he gave, much to the Grand Vizier’s irritation.

Pez began to dance, singing loudly at the top of his voice. It was his intention to frustrate the Grand Vizier as fast as possible.

‘Can you quieten him?’ Tariq asked of the guards over the racket.

The Elim leant forward and touched Pez gently on the shoulder. He didn’t fall silent but he stopped dancing and murmured softly to himself, picking his nose and wiping whatever he could find in it on the furniture. He stole a glance at the Grand Vizier and took pride in the disgust he now saw in the man’s expression. He farted for good measure just as the official opened his mouth to speak. It closed again.

‘Is this the best we can do with him?’ Maliz enquired of the Elim.

The more senior one gave a soft shrug of helplessness. ‘He is contrary, Grand Vizier. No-one controls him.’

‘Pez.’ Maliz finally addressed him directly.

Pez stopped all activity and gave the man a beatific smile.

‘Good. The Zar is very unhappy with you, Pez.’

Pez gave a sulky look and then bent down to grab the turned-up toes of his ridiculous court shoes. Both Zars loved them for their comical effect and had many pairs made up in various fabrics. They were deliberately too large for his feet and Pez had even attached bells to this pair for added humour. He shook them now.

‘Look at me, please.’

He did so and felt the first tentative grope of magic pull at the protective shield of the Lore and saw recognition burn in the formerly dead-looking eyes of the Vizier. He had anticipated as much. But finding a shield meant nothing. It could be interpreted many ways. His insanity could be seen as that shield and he used his disguise to full effect now, screaming and screaming straight into the man’s horrified stare.

Pez’s screams were legendary and to be avoided at all cost. The Elim grabbed for him and covered his mouth. He continued to struggle despite their strength as it disguised the shudder he felt at the insistent probing.

Suddenly he stopped and became peaceful and then he began to count—in Derranese—backwards and loudly, each number interspersed by spitting gobs of whatever he could muster directly at the Grand Vizier’s beautifully crafted darkwood table. He hadn’t been in the Vizier’s chambers before but Lazar had told him how vulgar and ostentatious the whole set-up was under Tariq. Well, there was no sign of Tariq here, Pez thought, spitting forcefully at the exquisite table, just one of several simple, priceless and supremely elegant pieces that sparsely furnished the huge chamber.

‘Stop that!’ Maliz yelled and Pez now sensed that the probing magic’s link had been broken. He silently sighed his relief as he continued to count and spit.

‘Grand Vizier. Pez must not be shouted at.’

‘Can you not stop him behaving so?’ Maliz demanded, impotent fury only barely repressed.

‘We could remove him.’

The counting suddenly stopped and a soft sound of remorse issued from Pez, dragging everyone’s glances helplessly to where he sat and stared at the widening puddle around his satin trousers.

‘Oh, Zarab save me!’ Maliz exclaimed, both astonished and angered. ‘Get him out of here and have that filthy mess cleaned up.’

‘Yes, Grand Vizier,’ both Elim murmured, stifling their amusement.

‘I want to stay here!’ Pez screamed as the men bent to lift him. ‘I haven’t finished yet.’

‘Get him out!’ the Grand Vizier roared, determined that nothing further was going to be released from the dwarf’s body into his chamber.

The men rushed Pez from the scene of his crime, dangling between them in their haste to get him clear of the Grand Vizier’s wrath. After closing the door they put him back onto his own short legs and gave rueful glances at the damp trousers he stood in.

‘I’m uncomfortable,’ he complained, seemingly sane again.

‘That wasn’t wise, Pez,’ one said, taking advantage of the moment of clarity within the dwarf.

‘I had plans to leave something bigger behind,’ he said before gently shaking himself clear of his escorts’ hands and fleeing down the corridor. There was no time even to think on what had just occurred or the hideously precarious situation he now found himself in with no allies at the palace, save the loyal Elim—and they would never disobey their Zar. It was Ana who was in danger now and he’d already lost so much time with the Vizier.

There was only one person he could turn to. He needed to warn Lazar.

‘Look how it sparkles, Ana,’ Herezah breathed into her ear. ‘Imagine yourself naked and wearing
only that emerald.’ Ana’s eyes widened in shock at the suggestion and Herezah laughed softly. ‘Don’t be coy, Ana. I know a beautiful body hides beneath all of these robes. You’ve just got to be taught how to show it off to its best glory. Nothing works better than a precious jewel.’

Even veiled, Ana looked baffled. ‘Valide, I…’

Herezah was firm. ‘You must accept. And you must learn to use your body in ways you’ve never dreamed, to excite, entice and above all, keep the Zar enamoured of you.’

Ana shook her head softly, returning her gaze to the emerald. ‘It’s beautiful but gems have never fascinated me the way they do other women.’

Now Herezah clicked her tongue with exasperation. ‘It matters not whether you appreciate them, Ana. This is about pleasing your Zar! Boaz loves emeralds, it is the stone of his birth. But I think tonight you should be dressed in blue. It will set off your golden hair beautifully, so perhaps a sapphire?’

The jeweller nodded and disappeared to the back of his store, returning almost immediately to reverently polish and place an exquisite jewel pendant into the waiting hands of Herezah.

‘This is perfect! You must please him by wearing it…perhaps dangling between your bare breasts, or across your naked hips…wherever he thinks it suits you best.’ She laughed again but kept it light, almost conveying a fondness.

‘I shall consider it,’ Ana replied, trying to be diplomatic.

Herezah rounded on her, shooing the jeweller away so she could speak privately to Ana. ‘You don’t understand anything, do you?’

Ana shook her head, confused, frowning. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘I think you’re being deliberately vague, Ana,’ Herezah accused but was, again, careful to keep her voice friendly, as if they were familiar companions, used to this sort of banter. ‘I have already warned you of what my son will require from you.’ A murmur of a laugh came from behind the veil. ‘After all, you are from the harem.’

‘Yes, you did, Valide. I’m not being evasive, just getting myself prepared—’

‘But there is no more time, Ana,’ Herezah said, reaching for her arm and squeezing it as a friend might for emphasis. ‘He has decided.’

‘Decided?’ Ana repeated, feeling dull suddenly, not at all in tune with the Valide’s comments.

Herezah voiced her amusement, her eyes sparkling at Ana’s innocence. ‘We’ll take this,’ Herezah called to the jeweller, who nodded and reached to take the large light-coloured sapphire pendant. ‘Match up a gold chain with it and have it delivered to the palace for tonight. The Grand Master Eunuch will settle with you.’

He bowed and disappeared behind the silk curtain that divided the shop from his back rooms.

Herezah watched the shock deepen in the girl’s eyes. She elegantly sipped from the raspberry-coloured glass of apple cinnamon tea that had been served prior to being shown any of the jewels.

Ana thought it should have cooled beyond the Valide’s liking but she watched Herezah go through the motions and it gave her time to think too. Except her thoughts were too fractured and painful to be of much help to her at present. One moment they had been looking at the light glistening through a seemingly perfect sapphire and the next Herezah had her in bed with Boaz. The day was already ruined, and it had hardly begun.

‘What are you thinking, Ana?’ Herezah enquired finally. ‘I don’t understand your hesitation.’

‘Valide, I just didn’t imagine this would happen so soon.’ Ana’s eyes were full of pleading now, somehow hoping her new mentor would help her.

‘I was barely thirteen when Joreb chose me.’

Ana covered her mouth with her hand to stop the cry she felt sure might escape otherwise.

‘He was gentle the first time—I was but a child.’ She saw Ana begin to say something but stopped her by continuing. ‘He took me five times that night. My virginity was well and truly paid to my master by the following morning.’ Now she watched horror stare blankly back at her. ‘He called for me six nights in a row and
only left me on the seventh because he was tired from his hunting that day. Not a part of me didn’t ache. Not an inch of my body wasn’t bruised, bitten, scratched, pinched—all out of affection, of course. Not a single bit of me minded. I was the winner.’

‘Thirteen,’ Ana repeated, not daring to disbelieve the Valide, knowing in her heart she heard the truth of what had perhaps shaped this hard woman.

Herezah shrugged. ‘I learned fast—as you will. And you are past fifteen, Ana. A woman by anyone’s standards.’

‘When, Valide?’ Ana begged.

Both knew what she meant.

There was no point in lying. ‘Tonight.’

Ana gasped.

Herezah became matter of fact. ‘He announced it this morning to Salmeo. You have been chosen. You are to be…’ she hesitated, trying not to let the cruel grin behind the veil touch her eyes which were showing only sympathy ‘…prepared,’ she finished.

‘Prepared?’

‘Bathed, oiled, smoothed. Every hair from your body must be waxed and plucked. Every hair on your head must be polished until it reflects the light of the moon. Your teeth must gleam, your breath must be sweetened, your nipples must be painted to excite the Zar. You will be given the varada leaf to chew to stimulate your own desires
—it works faster than the smoke. It also widens your pupils to make you more alluring. You will be powdered and perfumed and finally you will be draped in a silken gauze and then you will crawl to his bedside on your knees before opening yourself up to the Zar and doing whatever he asks of you.’

‘How long have you known?’ Ana asked, too stunned to respond to the images Herezah’s words had prompted.

‘I was told just moments before we left. All the more reason to ensure you had a wonderful time in the bazaar—your last chance at freedom. I never had this chance that you have. But as I said earlier, this is my gift to you. So come on, let us go now and look for fabrics and a beautiful present that you might bring to your Zar this evening.’ Then she gave her tinkling laugh. ‘Actually, he needs no gift beyond your body, Ana. It will be enough, I’m sure.’

She led a silent odalisque from the jeweller’s. Over the next couple of hours Ana was ushered from shop to shop. Herezah made all the purchases. Ana was barely more than an observer now, unaware of the Valide’s insistence that all these items must reflect Ana’s new status as First Chosen, incapable of responding to her queries on this fabric or that, as the Valide chattered on, seemingly oblivious to the dread quiet at her side.

‘Perhaps you may be Favourite by tomorrow morning,’ Herezah whispered conspiratorially to
her silent companion. ‘Joreb made me Favourite on that first night.’

Ana was past tearfulness. Now she was simply fearful, and fright was turning to something hard and obstinate. As Herezah spoke by her side about glassware and beautiful silver, magnificent rich fabrics and even ideas for the design of her own porcelain, Ana stared at the wondrous roof of the bazaar. There in its beautiful blue and white painted tiles she found calm. The intricate pattern of flowers and birds became abstract from this distance and in taking her gaze on a journey around the ceiling it permitted her to escape.

She didn’t even notice the icy sensation coursing through her body or the fact that in giving herself over to the art that brought her peace and beauty she was actually reaching over into another side of herself; a side she had never known existed.

And then she heard the voice in her mind.
Who is this?
It sounded both hesitant to speak and yet terrified not to. She recognised it instantly.

It’s me,
was all she could say in her shock at being able to communicate in this way and her despair at what was babbling on beside her.

Ana?

She could feel his relief washing through her own mind.
How are we doing this?
she asked.

No idea. Simply confirms you are who I assumed.

I know I accepted it quietly when we spoke
—
probably because you make me feel safe, but it
suddenly frightens me. Are you so sure this goatherd’s daughter is who you think she is?

Yes. Why else are we linked? How come we can now talk to each other without hearing but simply using our minds?

I don’t know.

I am Iridor and you are Lyana. I have learned to accept it
—
now you must.
When she didn’t reply, he filled the silence.
Where are you? I hear a lot of noise.

In the bazaar with the Valide. I know where you are
—
you’re flying.

How do you know that?

I can hear the wind rushing by,
she said wistfully.

Have you heard about Boaz and what he did this morning?

A moment ago. I can’t think straight.

Don’t be scared.

Why not? I can’t escape this time.

I’m working on it.

What do you mean?

He suddenly sounded evasive.
Now that we can do this
—
we’ll talk again in the same manner soon.

Don’t go, Pez!

I have to…er, Ana, forgive me, I am just joining someone
—

Pez cut the link but not before she heard someone’s voice. It was a voice she had not thought she would ever hear again. It weakened her still further and yet it lifted the weight from her heart and her spirits began to soar. Surely it
couldn’t be? Was she imagining it because she was so distraught?