Emissary (29 page)

‘Well, I agree with both of you,’ Boaz said, shrugging. ‘Lazar’s right, I feel you should always be close to the palace, Tariq. That said, you do have very high status and are closest counsellor to the Crown. It would be a goodwill gesture to send you.’

The Vizier nodded sagely, then frowned as if thinking through a new idea. ‘It occurs to me to suggest that you should also send Pez, as a gift, Highness. Laughter is a great way to leap cultures, bridge our differences and so on.’

‘Zar Boaz, I must protest,’ Lazar interrupted. ‘Really, this is not a circus I’m taking across the desert. I’m trying to stop a war!’

‘So am I, Lazar,’ Boaz said, a fraction coldly, and the Spur knew he was no longer talking to a young man slightly in awe of him. This was a Zar and he was demanding respect from his Spur.

‘Forgive me, Zar Boaz.’

‘Nothing to forgive,’ Boaz said, sensibly waving the moment aside. ‘We are all worried, and it may not appear so but I am fully sympathetic to your task of guiding people safely across the desert. It’s frightening just to think of you taking that route. It’s absolutely necessary, of course?’

‘For speed, yes, Highness. By sea it would take two moons. Not fast enough to avert warriors hungry for booty. Marius and Lorto will stay the
warships in open sea and send messages back to Romea. I’m hoping that by the time the birds arrive, Ana will have already argued her case with the King.’

Boaz sighed, drained his cup. ‘Right, here is my decision. Lazar, you will escort Absolute Favourite Ana, together with Grand Vizier Tariq, and the Valide will go as Ana’s escort…’ He held up his hand to prevent the furious outburst threatening to erupt from Lazar. He glared to stop the man making a mistake. ‘Ana needs the guidance of an older woman and whatever my mother is, she can be relied upon to be courtly and incredibly perceptive when it comes to people. I want her there at that palace, especially as I realise you can hardly risk discovery. You will also take Pez—he will make good entertainment for our royal neighbours.’ He looked at Lazar in a way to suggest that he was sending the palace clown for help rather than hindrance. ‘You will take a dozen of the Elim and four of my elite guard, the mutes, who will have the express task of guarding my wife, alongside yourself. Lazar, you can take as many or few of your men as you wish, although I would prefer that you left the city fully secured by the Shield in your absence. Zarab knows what might come at us in the meantime, especially if Marius and Lorto cannot head off all or some of those warships.’

There was nothing Lazar could risk saying. Instead he maintained a stony silence. It was the Vizier who did all the talking in response.

‘Very good, my Zar. Please excuse me so I can make arrangements for gifts for our counterparts in Galinsea. Er, Spur Lazar, perhaps you can guide us in this?’ He smiled and received a scowl in return. It mattered not. He continued: ‘The exchange of wedding presents will take place in three hours, Highness. I’m sorry it won’t be the lavish affair it should be for your first wife but I know you understand. We will do our best to impress with a wedding feast. May I suggest you rest until then. Spur Lazar, when do we leave?’

‘At nightfall, as the Zar wishes,’ the tall man growled. ‘We can reach the foothills by midnight. Sleep until an hour before dawn and set out on the camels then.’

‘Camels? Lovely,’ Maliz replied.

Lazar needed to escape. ‘Excuse me, Highness. I need to brief Jumo on the extra supplies we shall have to organise.’

‘Yes, go by all means and ensure you take the royal tents. And Lazar…?’

The man looked back, the obvious war inside only barely sheathed.

‘As unhappy as you are, I want you back here to witness my marriage to Odalisque Ana.’

‘I wouldn’t miss it, Highness,’ Lazar said and Maliz chuckled silently to himself.

The entire palace had swung into action, and to his credit, Maliz, drawing on Tariq’s fastidious eye for detail, was orchestrating most of the arrangements. The kitchen had never worked more ferociously, although a feast for such a modest number of people was easy for the cooks to achieve. No Percherese wedding, rich or poor, peasant or royal, was complete without rice, tinted yellow with saffron. And in this instance, because it was the Zar and it was also his First Chosen, the golden rice was scattered with precious jewels, supplied by Salmeo.

Salmeo had quickly moved himself past the disappointment of the failed execution. He was an opportunist at the best of times and from a young age had never lingered too long over any situation gone awry—there was always something to salvage from any circumstance, if you approached it positively. Already he was thinking ahead to the new court within the harem that would now have to be established to cater to an Absolute Favourite. Ana would need to be separated geographically from the
Valide, as well as the other girls, as tradition demanded. She would now have her own retinue of slaves to serve her as well as a personal assistant. As much as he found Ana a thorn in the soft belly of the harem, Salmeo found her spirit challenging as well. Secretly he thought she was good for this closeted, spoiled community, and her headstrong way would also ensure some balance might be kept. As much as he placed his lot in with Herezah, too much power to the Valide might see himself undone. Ana’s presence would keep that potential power controlled. The way things had turned out was not altogether bad for him. He was still in charge of the harem, and Ana, no matter what her role was on behalf of Percheron in Galinsea, was still a member of that harem and thus under his jurisdiction, as was Herezah. If he played them off against each other with his well-honed skills, then he could be on top of things again. He would have to impose his own authority, of course, as soon as Ana came back to them from her diplomatic travels.

He had returned from personally delivering the cache of exquisite gems to the kitchens, leaving behind a trustworthy Elim to watch over their use, so that they didn’t find their way into dishonest pockets. Now he made his way to a suite of rooms in the harem where he knew they were preparing Ana. She would have already been through the rigorous bathing ritual, and as
he walked in, Elza and her helpers had Ana naked in their circle. They lofted soft-scented powder at her, dusting her entire body with a light mist-like covering of fine talcum that clung to the already applied oil of frankincense. The room was filled with the fragrance of the spice gently overlayed by honeysuckle, jasmine, gardenia—there was more but he was so overwhelmed by the smell that he could no longer pick out the individual flowers that contributed to it.

‘Are your hands readied, Ana?’ he lisped and she turned, her face a mask. He had anticipated anger—a scowl at least—but there was nothing. She was blank but hate emanated from her.

Ana lifted her hands, palms downward, and showed him the intricate pattern of painted henna that stretched from her fingertips to halfway down the length of her hand like short gloves. Her feet were stained with the henna bark also and dusted with gold so she glittered.

In a velvet pad he carried the jewels she would wear this day as well as the grit of diamonds that would be the final layer of dusting so her body sparkled for the Zar. The jewels themselves were the same ones Herezah had worn when she had married Joreb. It seemed fitting. These belonged to the harem rather than Herezah, who possessed more than enough precious stones to look after a small harem of women herself. Joreb had always
been so generous and especially to his Absolute Favourite.

Salmeo knew all of it was meaningless to Ana but he enjoyed the slaves’ exclamations at the beauty of the pieces when he unrolled the velvet.

‘Emeralds only for this special day,’ he said, allowing the sun passing through the shutters to spark a fire within the magnificent jewels he held aloft. ‘To match your sad eyes, Ana,’ he said.

‘Perhaps because I’m not dead.’

Elza’s face twisted in embarrassment at Ana’s directness but she remained silent, shooing away her helpers now that the Grand Master Eunuch had arrived.

Ana suffered Salmeo’s appraising gaze over her body.

‘Very, very nice. The drowning seems to have caused no long-term damage.’

‘None that you can see.’

‘Manners,’ Elza hissed as she hurried by Ana to pick up the baskets of dried, crushed petals that formed the talcum along with chalk.

‘I have no reason to be polite to him,’ Ana said louder and Elza trembled. ‘He has tried his hardest to destroy me but like a bad smell I keep returning to spoil his days.’

‘Indeed you do, child,’ Salmeo said, his thick lips pulled into a pert grin, ‘however, it is not altogether as unpleasant as you think. But try not to goad me, Ana, remember when you return—’

‘If I return.’

He ignored her interruption. ‘When you return you will be all mine again, and while you may well be First Chosen and Absolute Favourite of the Zar, you will also be simply Ana, a member of this harem.’

‘You can no longer hurt or threaten me, Salmeo. I despise you but you are nothing, the mere slime that gathers around any powerful person.’

‘Is that so? I imagine you’ve suddenly given up caring for your family, then.’

He noticed she didn’t flinch, wondered what had changed that she was so resilient.

‘You cannot threaten me with my family’s welfare any more. They have protection now.’

‘From the Zar?’ He laughed. ‘He wouldn’t even know who they are.’

‘But the Grand Vizier does and should anything happen to my family that seems accidental or unusual it will find you, Salmeo, because I have already warned Tariq of your threats.’

‘Tariq now, is it?’ He covered his anger well.

She nodded. ‘You share the same status, I gather. May I suggest you don’t attract his ire—he has the Zar’s respect, unlike you, and I imagine he’s every bit as cunning as you or the Valide.’

Salmeo inwardly fumed but to her he smiled softly, put a fat finger against his lips. ‘Shh, be careful, Ana.’

‘I’m not scared of you or her any more. I think I died today—a few more seconds and no-one could have revived me. Nothing scares me any more.’

‘You feel strong now, Ana, but I assure you, once you’re back it will be different. I can make others suffer and all the time you’ll know it’s because of you. Young Sascha, for instance—’

‘You leave her alone!’

‘Then there’s the shy, pretty Lesan.’

‘I swear—’

‘What do you swear, child?’

Frustration engulfed her. ‘Nothing,’ she said, sensibly holding her tongue against revealing anything further.

‘Good. Treat me with respect, Ana, and perhaps we can start again with a nod towards your new status.’

She stared angrily at him but said nothing.

‘And be careful with Tariq. There is something rotten there, something I can’t fathom. He will not exchange his favours lightly.’

‘You worry about your own relationship with him.’

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Now turn, Ana, let me place these jewels around you. Elza, bring your silks, it is time to dress Ana for her marriage.’

Boaz rose, looking as elegant and eligible as his mother had ever seen him in dark, glimmering
emerald robes over white silks. He stepped down from the dais and took her hand. She bowed, fluid and magnificent in her own multi-layered silks of various colours. She had never got herself ready this fast before. When he raised her he kissed her hand. ‘Welcome, mother.’

‘You honour me, Zar.’

‘As you should be,’ he replied.

Her eyes glittered with the anger she had had to bury over Ana’s startling change in fortune. It was unbelievable—one moment a prisoner in the process of being executed, the next she was marrying into the Imperial Court of Percheron. It was not lost on Herezah that Ana now had equal ranking with herself within the harem. That it shattered her did not show, but inwardly Herezah was in turmoil. ‘This is a surprise for us all.’

‘As much to me as well. As you’re aware, I had formally chosen Ana but it was Lazar’s idea to make her my wife, and a very good one that might just save our city from being sacked.’

The Valide turned to where she sensed the Spur stood. He, too, looked dazzling in all white, his face tanned and more chiselled than she could ever remember. Despite her fury, she felt the familiar thrill through her body at the sight of him. As usual, his expression was unreadable. From behind her veil she smirked. ‘Is that so, Spur?’ she purred, expertly hiding her own alarm at what was occurring this day.

‘It’s what we all wanted, isn’t it, Valide? From that very first day we all saw Ana we knew she was perfect.’

‘Not so perfect perhaps, now that we know how headstrong she is and how much she hates everyone here, to what lengths she’ll go to impress that upon us.’

‘Still,’ Boaz said, hating the way these two people close to him crossed swords at every opportunity. ‘It’s the right thing to do and Ana can be the difference between bloodshed—our blood, that is—and peace. I think we all have to remember this and forget what has gone before.’

‘Fret not, my Lion, I shall be a dutiful mother and treat her as I would my own daughter.’

‘Thank you. I am grateful you say this, because I need you to act as her guardian.’ His mother frowned. ‘What I mean is you will be going to Galinsea as Ana’s escort.’

The perfect composure slipped. It wasn’t often Boaz witnessed such a thing. ‘What?’

‘She needs a woman by her side, someone of your calibre to assist. Take a couple of the slaves to see to both your needs. Ana is representing us in the Galinsean palace—she needs you to ensure she is groomed appropriately, and it is fitting that someone of your stature is alongside her to offer counsel should she need it.’

‘Boaz, really, I—’

‘My mind is made up. Believe me, I’ve already
had this fight with Lazar. But he is resigned to my decision and I trust you will not argue the point.’

Herezah looked incredulous. He had honoured her with honeyed words and now, with that same sweetened tongue, he was wielding them as a weapon, lowering her to the status of nurserymaid.

‘It seems we are underway,’ he said, distracted by the signal from Bin that the very brief ceremony, purely an exchange of gifts, was about to begin and would seal the marriage.

Pez scampered in ahead of everyone, cartwheeling and whooping for joy. He was dressed head to toe in emerald and white to honour his Zar. Boaz laughed. It was good to have his friend back. Behind Pez came the Galinsean party—Marius and Lorto looked refreshed, as well as bemused by the frivolity of the dwarf. They were accompanied by the Grand Vizier together with a host of Percherese dignitaries, all hastily assembled. Herezah grimaced behind her veil. It was not traditional for the Zar’s marriages to be displayed publicly. It seemed vulgar to her that something so steeped in tradition and mystery was being paraded almost as a piece of entertainment. Joreb would turn in his tomb, but then, although Joreb enjoyed tradition, he had always encouraged his elder sons to think as daringly as their imaginations permitted.
We must move Percheron forward,
he used to tell the older boys on the rare occasions he gathered them together.
It’s valid to keep an eye on
the past, respect what’s gone before, but don’t be left behind by not keeping your other eye on the future.

It seemed to Herezah that her own son was taking a very forward-thinking approach to the world. Already his short reign had seen so many of the old traditions discarded that she herself was beginning to feel somewhat antiquated in her views, and yet she’d always considered herself a relatively contemporary thinker.

Pez rolled nearby, pausing to shriek hysterically at Herezah, and this dragged her from her private thoughts to the event before her. Coming through the doors now was Salmeo, looking very grand and exceptionally pleased with himself. He was holding the hand of Ana, who looked every bit the child at his side, dwarfed by his enormous stature. But although he held her hand, she walked as far from him as she could. There was little doubting how much she despised the eunuch. Above them was carried a silken canopy, embroidered with the finest gold thread.

The canopy was a bright blue—Ana’s choice—and that would now be her palace colour, untouchable by anyone else in the harem. No other woman would be permitted to wear that particular hue of aquamarine at any time, although the Zar was, should he choose to do so.

Ana was unveiled because she was in the presence of her Zar, and her arrival drew a hush
of awed silence. As much as it galled her, even Herezah had to acknowledge that she had never seen a more glorious-looking woman than this one. To think they had dragged her from the river, seemingly dead, just hours previously.

Ana sparkled—every inch of her glittered and glowed and her garments had been carefully chosen to seductively reveal her diamond-encrusted shoulders and the golden-hued, flawless skin beneath. Herezah imagined the palace seamstresses’ fingers were bleeding, they must have worked so hard these past few hours. The Valide jealously watched Ana kneel and then lay herself prostrate on the Throne Room’s cool, magnificently tiled floor.

Herezah could not resist a searching gaze at Lazar, who, despite his own best efforts, looked disturbed or…she wasn’t sure what the right word was to describe it…forsaken, she thought was the best choice. Something precious was being taken from him today—she knew it and when his own rigid stare slid from Ana to the Valide, Herezah understood that he realised she knew what he was giving up. Whether it was love, she could not tell, but his desire for this young woman was certainly obvious to her. Something was dying inside Lazar, she could sense it, and it galled her more deeply than any other wound that she was not the one who was inflicting this pain on him as he had on her for the last decade. If only he could feel one tenth of the anguish of
how much she ached for him, he might come close to understanding what real envy was.