Emissary (27 page)

The girl could be Lyana with that sentiment, he mused, but none of his senses were on alert. This was no goddess walking in disguise at his side. ‘Do you really hate everyone here?’

‘I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it, Grand Vizier Tariq.’

‘I thought you were friendly with the dwarf,’ he probed, just for good measure.

‘Pez has no sane process of thought. No-one is friends with him because it’s impossible to understand him.’ He could tell she was being careful with this question and his ears pricked up. ‘I do, however, feel constantly sorry for him. Pez is trapped in his mind as I am trapped in the harem.’

‘That’s a clever analogy, Odalisque Ana. Do you notice any moments of clarity with him, though? Could he be pretending, do you think?’

‘Grand Vizier, why are you asking me this odd question?’

‘Oh, nothing,’ he shrugged, intrigued now by her fluster. Was she hiding something? ‘Simply baffled by him.’

‘But you’ve known him for many years, surely? Why would I throw any more light on his sanity?’

She was certainly direct and very composed for someone of such a tender age. Definitely a match for the Zar. ‘Yes I have, but Pez, amongst his swirl of insanity, very clearly detests me.’

She laughed. ‘Yes, he can be contrary to certain people.’

‘Who else, would you say?’

‘I can’t imagine,’ she replied but there was again the careful tone.

‘Well, myself, the Valide certainly, and without doubt, Salmeo. His hostility, that seems to be couched in humour, is carefully directed. But never at the Zar, never at you presumably, Ana, never at the Spur.’

He watched her bristle at the mention of Lazar. He smiled inwardly. How delicious this was—secrets upon secrets. He’d definitely hit a nerve there. ‘Of course you know the Spur has also returned to us from the dead,’ he continued, happy to leave the other thread of conversation for it was leading nowhere anyway.

‘Yes,’ she replied, brisk and to the point.

‘Ah, is he one of the people you hate?’

‘I told you, I hate everyone.’

‘Including me?’

‘Yes.’

‘How sad. I thought we were getting on rather well.’

‘That’s not the same as liking someone, Grand Vizier.’

‘No, indeed. You have a good grip on diplomacy, Odalisque Ana, and that’s why you’ll make a fine emissary for our Zar.’

‘Grand Vizier,’ she said and could not hide the fractiousness in her tone, ‘you promised me an explanation.’

‘I did. Here it is, for what it’s worth.’ He explained about the Galinseans.

‘Here in the palace, threatening war?’ she asked, incredulous.

‘Not openly. But the suggestion is clearly there unless we can convince the Galinsean royalty that Spur Lazar is alive and well. Perhaps we can say the execution was a jest and apologise profusely that the Galinseans don’t share our sense of humour?’

She sneered at his sarcasm. He couldn’t see her mouth but her eyes were incredibly expressive. He rather adored her and loved goading her to watch the spark of anger flare in them.

‘But why is Spur Lazar so important?’

‘Ah, and now you have hit the crux of the matter. I cannot explain this but, from what I gather, if he is dead so are we and thus we must convince them that blood flows strongly in his veins.’

‘How does this involve me?’

‘My dear Ana, have you not realised that you are the only person who speaks Galinsean with such fluency?’

‘The Zar does,’ she countered.

‘And you know full well that it is not the same language that he speaks.’

She nodded, abashed. ‘He speaks an ancient form of it.’

‘Which makes absolutely no sense to our Galinsean dignitaries.’

Her frustration got the better of her. ‘Spur Lazar is alive! Lyana save me,’ she cursed, ‘why can’t he just go and present himself?’

Maliz stopped, entranced. ‘Now why would you call down the help of the Goddess?’

‘I…I…’ she faltered, ‘a slip, Grand Vizier. I admit I support the role of the priestess but I have never openly practised,’ she assured.

‘That’s right,’ he mused, ‘when you escaped the first time they found you in the Sea Temple, didn’t they?’ He nodded for her. ‘Lyana’s temple.’

‘Is that so wrong?’

‘It’s unusual.’

‘Are you a hater of the Goddess too, Grand Vizier?’

He liked the way she attacked when cornered. ‘I’m afraid so. I follow Zarab, child.’ He stored her ‘slip’ away. Perhaps he shouldn’t take his eye off Ana, or Pez for that matter. She was far too careful when discussing the dwarf and her love for Lyana was rather damning. Still, she wasn’t Lyana—that he was utterly certain of, and was pleased in a strange way because killing this feisty and beautiful woman would be a shame. He would enjoy watching her lead him to Lyana, though, as he was now gaining in confidence that this girl was somehow involved.

‘My spiritual leanings are irrelevant, Grand Vizier—you were explaining to me why Spur Lazar could not sort out the situation by presenting himself.’

‘I can’t explain that because I am not privy to the details but the Zar seems to understand that this is not the best strategy. Presumably the Spur’s life is in danger if he goes to Galinsea.’ He had decided that Ana should learn the truth from the lips of others. It would make for some entertainment, he was sure.

‘And that leaves me—that’s why I was plucked from the death waters,’ she finished.

‘Correct. You speak fluent, current and courtly Galinsean, as we all understand it. As I said earlier, you are now the single most important person in the whole of Percheron, save the Zar himself.’

‘No wonder Salmeo and the Valide are so disgusted.’ He laughed with genuine mirth at her comment and again she stared at him, trying to work him out. ‘Forgive my indiscretion, Grand Vizier.’

‘Nothing to forgive, my dear, I find them both slippery and conniving, to say the least.’ Now she looked shocked and he laughed again. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be admitting that to an odalisque.’ She shook her head, her eyes telling him she was puzzled by him, a little frightened. ‘Then we have both shared a secret that the other must protect. You have told me of your love for Lyana and I have told you of my hate for two very important people in the palace. Are we conspirators?’

The eyes behind the veil narrowed.

‘You have nothing to fear from me, Odalisque Ana. Whatever you’ve heard about me may have
been true once but no longer. It was all a ruse. I am loyal to Zar Boaz and, as you may have noticed, have become very close to him. I don’t care for what his mother might advise him, or for where the fat black eunuch might lead him.’ He watched his words take effect—a fragile bond suddenly linking them, he could see it reflected in those green eyes. ‘I will do whatever’s necessary to protect the Zar and his personal interests rather than follow any of the agendas of the grasping mother. We are fellow haters, Ana. Your secret is safe with me.’

She was taken aback and momentarily forgot the warnings that had been impressed upon her. She reasoned that both Pez and Lazar trusted Boaz and he had obviously taken the time to learn about Tariq and trust him. She didn’t need to be told by the Vizier, she had watched how they had become close, had heard Boaz speak only praise of his counsellor. She made her decision. ‘Then so is yours, Grand Vizier,’ she replied.

‘Good. What happened to the black eunuch boy, by the way?’

Her eyes misted and took on a faraway look. ‘The bird of sorrows is dead,’ she said sadly. ‘They managed to drown Kett.’

Maliz was speechless. The whole of Tariq’s body was stiff with tension. He finally found his voice. ‘Kett, that’s right. Why did you call him the bird of sorrows?’ he asked, trying to cover the choked feeling in his throat.

Ana was still talking in a dreamy voice. ‘Oh, he called himself the Raven. It’s funny, I always thought of him as a little black bird, scared by his own dark shadow sometimes and yet always courageous when he needed to be.’

Maliz could feel his body trembling now. He was close, very close. He had won a small amount of Ana’s trust and she had delivered something exquisitely important to him through a moment of carelessness. Ana may not be Lyana but she
was
involved in the struggle for the Goddess’s supremacy. Perhaps her involvement was inadvertent or only minor but this girl was his first real clue to his prey. He could not keep her any longer from her duty—especially as they had arrived—much as he would like to have seized this chance to interrogate her further. ‘We are here, Ana. Zar Boaz is counting on you—in fact all of Percheron is counting on you—to use your eloquence and diplomacy.’

Ana thought of her father, of her young brother and sisters and for them alone agreed to do whatever was required to save Percheron from war.

She nodded, pulling herself from her dreamy thoughts. ‘I am ready, Grand Vizier.’

He smiled warmly. ‘When we are not in formal situations, you must call me Tariq. Thank you for your discretion and trust. I will help you in your endeavours all I can.’ He had sensed where her loyalties now lay. ‘Perhaps I can get a message to your family, send them something? Money?’

Her eyes shone. ‘Why would you do this?’

‘Because I have no-one to spoil and I’m glad you were rescued and we had this opportunity to get to know one another a little. You hold my secrets now. For keeping them between us let me reward you for that friendship in the way I know will count.’

‘We are not friends, Grand Vizier…not yet. Not money but a message, yes, or even news that they are well would mean everything to me.’

‘Consider it done, child. Now, here we go…impress.’

Ana nodded her silent thanks. Behind the shrouded eyes of Tariq, the demon Maliz smiled.

Ana’s shock at seeing Lazar again—blond, bearded—almost unnerved her as she entered the chamber and she stumbled slightly, but she took the few moments as she knelt to her Zar to compose herself. In the fleeting second that their eyes met she saw that Lazar looked as full of dread and discomfort as she felt. She took in the toll that his fight to survive had obviously taken on him.

‘Ah, gentlemen,’ Boaz began. ‘This is Odalisque Ana. Rise, Ana.’

She did so but kept her eyes lowered. The Grand Vizier stood protectively alongside but there was no sign of Pez. Perhaps that was a good thing but she could feel the weight of Lazar’s stare, feel the heat of it sear past her veil once again, and onto her skin, where it rested like a lingering kiss.

‘Ana, you may remove your veil,’ Boaz said gently. ‘I want you to meet some esteemed guests of Percheron.’ It was also a command to raise her eyes. She did as her Zar bade her and ignored the flare of pleasure in the strangers’ eyes as they looked upon her fully. ‘This is Marius D’Argenny,’
Boaz said, his hand gesturing towards an older, silver-haired man with a stern face but lively eyes. ‘And this is Lorto Belsher. Neither speak Percherese but I have told them you can speak Galinsean that they will understand.’ She looked at the Zar and he gave her an embarrassed but encouraging smile. ‘You and I will talk privately shortly. Please go ahead, Ana.’

She could feel Lazar’s presence to her left as if he were a glowing brazier, radiating heat, and despite her anger and desire to be ice to him, she nevertheless felt the pull of that warmth and the comfort it could offer. The thought of feeling his arms wrap around her, hearing him tell her he loved her and that he never meant for her to suffer by his actions…the pull of him was so seductive, she felt herself sway slightly.

‘Ana?’ It was Boaz again, gentle but firm.

She rallied, forced herself to ignore the familiar, yet strange man nearby, and she smiled for the visitors, before, in flawless, courtly Galinsean, she welcomed them to the city of Percheron. A lengthy conversation with the dignitaries ensued that only Ana and Lazar could follow. Boaz and his Vizier could do little more than settle sympathetic expressions on their faces and hope that Ana’s words hit the right chord.

At some point Ana realised that Lazar had joined the discussion, offering her helpful insights into the Galinsean royalty. She had paused, nodded, but still not looked at him, and only now
turned fully to gaze upon the man at length—the man who dominated her thoughts, had been her reason for living, and indeed for dying. His golden hair suited him and suddenly no longer looked strange but right. The beard, however, hid the sculpture of his face and she longed to see it removed, imagined herself smoothing her hand across that firm jaw he ground so hard.

There was such sorrow reflected in his pale eyes that it nearly undid her. She felt a dry sob catch in her throat but the occasion demanded she carry herself with dignity this day. Boaz needed it from her and it was the least she could do for the Zar, considering the way she had abused his trust. As well, her own family’s safety burned in her mind. She did not want war to visit Percheron.

‘Spur Lazar, pardon my ignorance, and gentlemen, perhaps you’ll forgive me for not appreciating the subtleties of the background to this situation, but I have to wonder why you three cannot simply return to the court of Galinsea. Lazar’s presence would surely negate the need for war.’

Marius gave her a soft smile but deferred to the Spur.

Lazar cleared his throat. ‘Yes, Odalisque Ana, that is the obvious path to follow…except I cannot.’

Just to hear him speak her name again made her feel weak. She clenched her nails against the
palm of one hand to steady herself. ‘May I ask why? I need to understand what undercurrent passes beneath us here.’

‘It is because I have been excommunicated from that court,’ Lazar answered, his tone direct but his words not so; she sensed the discomfort he had in answering.

‘I see.’ She hesitated but then persisted: ‘Again, forgive my dullness here, gentlemen, but is it normal for Galinsea to go to war over someone they don’t care about?’

‘It is Lucien’s status that is the problem, my dear,’ Marius replied.

‘Lucien?’ She looked at the old man quizzically.

‘I am Lucien,’ Lazar cut in. She saw him take a slow breath as if working hard to keep his emotions controlled.

She stared at him for a long time. She did not need to say anything for Lazar to appreciate what her look meant and what sort of pain he was further inflicting upon her.

When Ana spoke again her voice was colder now. ‘And, sirs, if you’ll permit my question, what is Lucien to the Galinsean court?’

This time Lazar chose not to answer. Marius flicked a glance his way and then replied for him. ‘Odalisque Ana, I realise people here are only just learning the truth of your Spur’s background. I know how difficult this must be for him and for the Percherese Crown. But these are dire times and I have to placate an angry King. Before you,
Odalisque Ana, is Crown Prince Lucien, heir to the throne of Galinsea.’

Ana’s already unbalanced world rocked on a new axis. She felt dizzy at the revelation but through the confusion everything about Lazar suddenly made sense to her. She understood him even more deeply now for this admission, but none of that realisation helped relieve her sense of betrayal. He had deceived her, deceived everyone.

‘Royalty,’ she said, as if testing the word, then she gathered up her pain in the way she was becoming used to and put it aside. ‘Thank you. Now I understand why you need a third party involved.’

‘You speak our language beautifully, Odalisque Ana,’ Lorto said, his first words to her.

She smiled, liking both the Galinseans for their sincerity. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘In any other situation, you would be most acceptable,’ Marius was quick to add.

Lazar frowned and Boaz instantly picked up that there was a problem. ‘What is it?’ the Zar interrupted. ‘Ana seems to be discoursing well with them.’

‘She is flawless, they like her very much,’ Lazar reassured. ‘We have hit a snag, it seems. I’m about to find out what, my Zar. Please indulge us a few moments longer.’

Boaz nodded, concentrating hard on the foreign words flying about him as the four people who spoke and understood Galinsean
conversed once again. Finally he watched Ana bow in what looked to be resignation. They all turned to the Zar.

‘Explain, Ana,’ he said.

‘My Zar, forgive me. I can certainly act as your emissary but my status is such that it will not make a strong enough impression on the royal family of Galinsea.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘I gather they need someone high-ranking from Percheron. The Valide, the Grand Vizier…perhaps—’

‘None of whom speak Galinsean!’ Boaz cut across her, his exasperation spilling over. ‘How am I expected to keep both Percheron and Lazar safe? If I send him, they’ll likely kill him. If I don’t, they’ll destroy us.’

Silence descended on the room and rested on everyone heavily. It was Lazar who broke it.

‘I will go, Highness. My life has been forfeit for some time with my family and until not so long ago you accepted my death. Let me take my chances.’

‘Your death was never accepted, Lazar, never! I will not risk you, not again. Percheron needs you now more than ever. There has to be another way.’

‘There is,’ Lazar replied evenly, although none could know what it would cost him.

All eyes shifted to the Spur, except Ana’s, which remained studiously lowered, unable to
look upon him without suffering. She could hear in his voice, however, that his idea did not sit comfortably with him.

‘Share it!’ Boaz commanded.

‘May I see if it is acceptable with the Galinseans, Highness? I fear they’re wondering what we’re discussing and they sense your frustration. It does not look good that we alienate them at this delicate stage.’

‘Go ahead,’ Boaz urged. He wanted resolution and allowing the Galinseans to hear this new plan first was the least of his troubles.

As Lazar spoke to the two men, Ana’s eyes widened and then her mouth opened slightly. The Zar and his Vizier could tell she was shocked by whatever Lazar was suggesting.

‘Spur Lazar, no!’ She surprised everyone with her outburst. It didn’t take an interpreter to understand her exclamation.

After the momentary pause in which Lazar glared at Ana, he returned to explaining to the intrigued guests.

The Zar spoke in a soft voice for Ana’s hearing. ‘Ana, you and I must speak alone later, there is much to clear between us, now that you—er, will be amongst us again.’

She said nothing, inclining her head slightly in politeness to his wishes.

Marius nodded, said something to Lazar, who now turned back to his ruler and bowed. ‘They agree, Highness. The idea is acceptable to them.’
Salmeo felt unprepared for this storm. For once this was none of his making and it was rare for him to feel quite so helpless. The shock of Ana’s revival had already sunk in and been dealt with by him but the Valide had held on to her rage, was unable to let it go yet.

‘Emissary! To the court of Galinsea, no less.’

‘It’s baffling, Valide, I agree.’

She clenched her fists and groaned. ‘The sight of Lazar diving into that water and then coming up with her makes me sick to my stomach! How can he be back?’

‘More to the point, Valide, how could she have not drowned?’

She ignored him. ‘They usurped my authority, Salmeo. It is not right that harem business is interrupted by outsiders.’

‘I know, but this was the Zar’s wish. We are not in a position to contradict your son openly, Valide.’

‘I don’t need the obvious stated, eunuch,’ she spat.

Salmeo disagreed but kept his counsel. Even though she was not raising her voice this was the first time in adulthood he had seen her so flustered. She
did
need the obvious stated so she didn’t make a ghastly error in her passion. Ana’s survival, once again, combined with Lazar’s re-emergence on the scene, had reduced the Valide to a shaking wreck. He had ordered her pomegranate tea infused with vinko to restore
calm to her. It was taking its time working, he noticed, another indication that the Valide’s emotions were spinning well beyond her usual icy control.

‘Forgive me, Valide. I meant not to offend. I simply wanted to convey that the Zar had taken full charge of proceedings—he even had the Vizier fetching Ana! What next? He was obviously not taking any chances.’

‘Why not send the Grand Vizier to Galinsea? They are as close as brothers these days,’ she said, disgust lacing her tone.

‘He does not speak Galinsean.’

‘Then Lazar, for Zarab’s sake! The man’s alive—isn’t that what this is all about?’

He nodded, determined not to fuel her anger himself and thus get burned. ‘I am as confused as you are, Valide. Please sip your tea, we can’t have your voice hoarse for when you are presented to the Galinsean dignitaries.’

‘If I’m presented, Salmeo. It seems Odalisque Ana is all that my son needs these days. Now she’s his diplomatic representative at foreign courts!’

He could see her pulse pounding at her temple.

‘I suspect only because she can speak the language fluently, Valide, no other reason.’

She was about to hurl more abuse his way, for want of a better target, when the bell sounded outside.

‘Come!’ Herezah ordered. Her personal attendant stepped inside. ‘Yes?’

‘Valide, forgive my disturbance, but it is the Zar’s secretary, Bin, with a message he must deliver personally.’

‘Well, he can wait, I’m busy,’ she growled back.

The young man looked terrified. ‘My sincerest apologies, Valide, but it is urgent, of the highest importance and direct from the Zar’s mouth, I am told to inform.’

Herezah scowled. How much worse could this day get? ‘Send him in,’ she said, her hand waving in disdain.

Bin entered and bowed. ‘Valide, Grand Master Salmeo, please forgive my interruption.’

‘What is it?’ Herezah said, her tone biting. ‘If you’ve come to invite me to supper with the Galinseans, they’ll be waiting a while. I need several hours for my toilet.’

Bin bowed low again. ‘I do bring an invitation, Valide, but not for supper with the Zar.’

‘What then?’ she sneered.

‘He would like you to attend and witness his wedding.’