Emissary (3 page)

Boaz inhaled the sudden fresh breeze blowing off the Faranel that rolled like a restless animal before them. He laid his hands on the stone balcony and raised his face to the sun to accept some of her early-season warmth.

Anyone looking at the Zar could be forgiven for thinking all traces of childhood had
disappeared this past year but Maliz, well attuned to Boaz now, could still sense faint echoes of the boy. He would have to rely on their presence to help him manipulate this young Zar.

‘What did you want to speak to me about, Tariq?’ Boaz asked, not opening his eyes but knowing he was being scrutinised.

‘About your security, my Zar,’ Maliz replied, without missing a beat.

Now the Zar did open his eyes and turn to his Vizier. ‘That’s a regular haunt for you, isn’t it?’

‘It is part of my greater responsibility, Zar Boaz. Did you know that less than a century ago we did not even have a Spur? The Grand Vizier was responsible for the entire realm’s security.’

Maliz deliberately mentioned the Spur, making his words, though softly spoken, re-open the wound of loss that perhaps the young Zar had tried to ignore. But the Vizier knew this was impossible. Boaz had admired Lazar, probably loved him, Maliz realised; those wounds would never heal, especially since the Spur’s death was shrouded in such mystery. It was time to turn the screw a little on the Zar’s pain.

‘Yes, I knew this from my history lessons,’ Boaz said evenly but not without a hint of sorrow.

‘I just think these are more dangerous times, my Zar. The fact is if Percheron’s head of security can disappear, without a trace, then we have a problem in our city. Now I accept that he invoked the law of Protectorship and was
punished on behalf of Odalisque Ana. It is also clear that his flogging was savage, mishandled badly enough to speed him to an early death.’ He watched the Zar’s jaw silently working with tightly held emotion. Oh yes, those wounds were not just seeping blood now, they were gushing. He continued, ‘But to have to trust the word of an old woman regarding the corpse, that it was properly dealt with according to the Spur’s wishes, and so on,’ he added a note of weariness to his tone, suggesting it sounded too far-fetched for his liking, ‘well, it doesn’t sit comfortably with me, Highness. You are my responsibility after all, and in the absence of our Spur, I feel moved to make suggestions to improve your safety. One tragedy in our palace is one too many; you must not allow our people to suffer another loss of similar or even higher magnitude.’

Boaz nodded. ‘You mentioned a change in the guard not so long ago. I presume you now have an idea to share?’

‘Yes, Majesty. I am proposing an elite group of strong young men who will permanently be at your side, so to speak.’

‘How many?’

‘At least a dozen on call so I can ensure a ring of men in and around your chambers or wherever you are, every minute of the day.’

‘This began as food tasters in the kitchens, Tariq. Now you’re suggesting they all but live with me? I fear I will find your measures claustrophobic’

Maliz nodded sadly. ‘At least one will sleep near your bedside, Highness.’

‘No!’ Boaz said. ‘Absolutely not. How uncomfortable will my life be if they can hear everything I say, repeat it to their colleagues and—’

Maliz raised a hand gently but the smile on his face had a malevolent quality to it. ‘Hear me out, Majesty.’

Boaz’s expression suggested he couldn’t imagine what the Vizier could possibly say that would change his reaction to this idea.

Maliz continued. ‘I am proposing that this elite corps will be highly trained and very capable of killing whoever might overstep the cordon without permission.’ He paused somewhat dramatically. ‘But they will also be deaf-mutes.’

Now Boaz looked startled. ‘To a man? How do we train them? How do we instruct them? How do we find that many brilliant warriors?’

Maliz tutted, irritating the Zar, and the Vizier quickly realised he must be on guard at all times against his own impatience showing through. He must never reveal too much of himself and should constantly remember that he was still Tariq to all who met him. He bowed. ‘Forgive me, Zar. I did not explain this well. The men will be hand-selected for their fighting prowess and ability to follow orders using signals. Once we have selected them, and trained them fully in their roles, they
will be made deaf and made mute.’ He stressed the final five words.

Boaz opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. He clearly had not anticipated such a chilling explanation. He took a moment or two to gather himself. ‘You will maim healthy men for this role?’

‘Yes,’ the Vizier said simply.

‘But that’s barbaric’

‘I care not for how we make them, Majesty. I care only that we have a supreme fighting ability in place to protect your life. I know if Lazar were sharing this conversation with us now, he would agree in principle to what I’m proposing.’

‘Then that shows how well you did not know the man, Tariq,’ Boaz countered firmly. ‘I assure you Lazar would never condone such injury to a warrior.’

Maliz was unfazed. He was enjoying the banter. ‘Lazar would not allow his Zar to be under any threat,’ he replied.

‘Well, am I?’

‘Pardon, Majesty?’

Boaz frowned. ‘Has a direct threat been detected?’

Maliz wondered whether he should lie in order to achieve his desire. He opted not to. ‘No, Highness, but these are different times to the ones your father lived through. None of your enemies could know how capable you are. They imagine a youth, seemingly vulnerable, capable of being
more easily killed or deposed than his father. Perhaps spies have reported the death of your Spur. It makes you even more at risk. Furthermore, Percheron has never been more vital as a critical trading point between east and west. I suspect that if we are ever going to be attacked, it will happen during the early years of your reign, Highness. We must think ahead, be prepared.’

‘All speculation,’ Boaz dismissed.

‘But that’s my job, Zar Boaz. I must anticipate all scenarios in connection with our ruler. And without the Spur, I feel even more compelled to offer higher protection than we currently have.’ He could see Boaz tiring of the conversation so he pushed once more. ‘I shall keep it to just a few men if that makes it easier on your conscience, my Zar.’

‘Then I insist they must take their roles willingly.’

Maliz couldn’t help Tariq’s expression changing to one of bemusement. ‘To be willingly made deaf and mute?’

‘Or I won’t allow it. Offer them and their families gold in exchange for the maiming. Be generous. If you insist upon this course, then I will set the parameters. I will also approve each before the maiming takes place.’

Maliz smiled inwardly. He had won. ‘As you wish, my Zar,’ he said obediently and bowed his head, revelling that he could now have the Zar permanently observed and, more importantly, that he could keep a constant spy on the dwarf.

The Valide sipped her fruit infusion, which she took habitually each morning, maintaining it kept her complexion unlined and unblemished. ‘And what did he want to see him about?’ she asked her guest as she put the porcelain cup down beside her. She was simply making conversation, for she couldn’t trouble herself with every discussion that her son had with the reinvented Tariq.

‘I don’t know, Valide,’ Salmeo admitted. ‘I thought you might,’ the eunuch enquired, always inquisitive.

‘Boaz doesn’t include me in his decisions any more—certainly not in recent times. He looks like a man now. Thinks like one too,’ she said, and he heard the not so well disguised sorrow.

‘Then he’ll be acting like one soon,’ Salmeo replied and knew the Valide missed nothing of the innuendo in those words.

‘He’ll choose her first,’ she warned.

It was not something the Grand Master Eunuch needed to be told. ‘We can’t stop that.’

‘She’s dangerous, Salmeo. I made a mistake in selecting Ana. I should have let Lazar have his little girl,’ she snarled.

‘I’m not sure anything used to simmer in Lazar for anyone,’ he commented, always glad to be reminded of the Spur’s demise.

‘If you were a woman you’d understand,’ she replied caustically. ‘He didn’t just simmer for her, he was feverish, but he arrogantly thought he hid it. From me!’ She shook her mane of hair that had lost none of its black glossiness, even though she was now past her third decade. ‘I’ll never understand why he ever brought her through those palace gates if he was so infatuated with the child.’

Salmeo understood instantly that none of the Valide’s own fiery infatuation with the long-dead Spur had cooled.

It surprised him that even after all this time she burned so fiercely for the soldier, or at least the memory of him. She had not mentioned Lazar’s name to him since the day his ‘murderer’, Horz, had been executed—accused of poisoning the whip used to flog and ultimately kill the Spur. Horz was dead and forgotten, but not so Spur Lazar—it seemed his memory would never die, and certainly not for the Valide. He stored the thought away.

The Valide was not an enemy but she could be. That accepted, Salmeo had long ago realised that his fate was tied up with Herezah. There
would never be any opportunity to ingratiate himself with the new Zar—it was all too obvious what the young ruler felt towards his keeper of the harem, but as distant as Boaz might have made himself from his mother, he was still of her blood and would see no wrong done by her.

If I can remain her ally, Salmeo thought, I might buy my own protection should the truth of my involvement in Lazar’s death come out. He didn’t think it could. Having successfully blackmailed Horz into taking the blame and with Horz’s corpse long since rotted on the impaling post outside the palace, his secret felt safe. But Salmeo knew in his heart that the Zar believed that he was at the root of the mysterious death of the Spur, so the royal’s suspicious nature where Salmeo was concerned could never be discounted. Boaz would be looking for anything that might connect Salmeo with wrongdoing, so staying close to the Valide, pandering to her needs and making himself indispensable to her machinations might be that extra insurance he needed. He deeply regretted that rare moment of spite when he had impulsively allowed his anger to overtake his sense. Poisoning the whip that would ultimately flog the Spur was effective but ultimately perilous. Yes, it killed the proud, arrogant soldier who had become such a thorn for Salmeo’s plans to dominate Odalisque Ana, but was death really necessary? No, he thought, it was stupidly reckless, and although blame had been laid through some
swift manipulations of his own, it had almost found him and wrapped itself about his own shoulders. The Zar surely wanted him to wear that mantle and it was only a stroke of genius that he had found the weakness of Horz, the one brave person he could count on to be the victim and go to death with courage, knowing his family was preserved from persecution. He suddenly realised the Valide had been watching him whilst he mused. She required a response to her grumbling over Ana.

Herezah watched the eunuch’s tongue flick out and lick his lips in an obscene habit that revolted most, but one she had become used to over the years. She regarded the shrouded eyes too. Both signs that Salmeo was plotting.

It was still a surprise for her, though, when he spoke his thoughts, and so directly. ‘I could just have her killed, Valide. She could accidentally slip or mysteriously drown—the boating excursion provides a marvellous opportunity. I can even manufacture a culprit if you ask this of me.’ His tone was sly and he did not look her in the eye, simply waited patiently for her response.

He guessed the suggestion brought a flare of hope that would torch through Herezah’s body. The thought of the young odalisque, who was rapidly shaping herself as the Zar’s Favourite, disappearing from the harem echoed a daydream he suspected the Valide permitted herself. Ana was a threat to her. The Valide had not anticipated Boaz taking on the challenge of being
a Zar quite so swiftly. She had hoped he would accept the role in title only and then return to his more studious pursuits, giving her free rein to essentially run the realm. Her intention had been to always involve her son, probably holding meetings over supper each evening to discuss the day’s affairs as though she was consulting with him. Herezah was too clever not to factor in male pride, and Salmeo understood that she was more than happy to allow everyone in the palace to continue the pretence that a new Zar was confidently on his throne whilst she herself pulled all the strings of the puppet ruler.

But it was not to be. For all her cunning and clever ways, Herezah simply hadn’t counted on her once shy, slightly withdrawn son actually embracing his new role, shouldering it with dignity and now living it with a real sense of purpose. That potential had slipped by her sharp senses and now she was paying the price of raising a well-educated son who had never been allowed to shirk a sense of duty.

All of this taken into account, Herezah could struggle to live with this mature Boaz in her life and carve out new powers for herself. It would be enough. But what she couldn’t abide, Salmeo knew, was Ana and the profound effect this young woman was having on her son. Ana and her speedy rise in the Zar’s estimation threatened to kill off any aspirations that the Valide still held for herself.

Nothing had occurred sexually between them yet, he knew this, but there was a bond, for certain. It had formed when the girl had first been brought to the palace—she had been lonely and vulnerable, whilst Boaz was uncertain and fearful of his new role as Zar. Herezah could only blame herself for having not paid sufficient attention to her son’s emotions at that time. Boaz had genuinely grieved for the loss of his father, whilst Herezah had expected him to get over the death quickly and find a similar excitement as she had at their new status—Valide and Zar.

Of course her mistake was imagining that ambition would somehow naturally override Boaz’s love and grief for his father, and her expectations of her son had been interpreted by him as heartlessness, Salmeo deduced. The eunuch appreciated that Herezah was right to expect Boaz to show no weakness, to pick up his father’s mantle—overnight—in order to establish his rule. But from what he could tell it remained an unspoken rift between the Zar and his mother.

Salmeo slipped one of the violet tablets he habitually sucked into his mouth. The flowery fragrance wafted towards the Valide and she pretended to ignore his soft sigh as he awaited her answer to his offer.

‘Too risky,’ she said finally. ‘Any number of things could go wrong. No, Ana needs to be entrapped by her own doing.’

‘I don’t follow, Valide,’ he said, lacing his fat, bejewelled fingers together, a sure indication that he was intrigued.

She picked up her cup again and sipped, waiting for the explosion of citrus flavours on her tongue, before she spoke. ‘Ana is by far the smartest odalisque in the harem, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘I would. Most of the others seem to look to her for leadership, I note.’

Herezah did not like hearing this. ‘Hmm, you see that in itself is a declaration of her intentions.’

Salmeo disagreed. ‘To be honest, Valide, I think Ana would be happier if she had less attention. She’s a strange sort of a girl—very contained, seems to need no-one and yet she’s the very person most of them seek friendship or comfort from.’

‘Is it just the younger ones?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not. She’s a natural leader. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that the entire harem adores her.’

Herezah smirked. ‘That will change.’

Salmeo’s mind moved quickly with the Valide’s. ‘When Boaz begins choosing his sexual partners, you mean?’

‘The moment my son starts singling out girls for his romantic attention, they’ll be the target of hate from all the others.’

‘Then Ana will be despised, for I have no doubt that she will be Absolute Favourite.’

Herezah slammed her cup down and Salmeo wondered if he didn’t hear it crack with protest at such treatment. ‘This is my very point! She must be undone before she attains such a position.’

Salmeo stifled the smile he was privately enjoying at the Valide’s insecurity. Herezah might consider herself powerful but she was not feeling terribly powerful right now, with her son so independent and a slip of a girl about to claim the most important position in the harem, save her own, and one that would ultimately threaten the Valide’s future. ‘You were telling me how we might undo such aspirations,’ he said, calming her, pouring her a fresh infusion.

Herezah took a breath to quell her anger. ‘We agree she’s clever so we must use that intelligence against her. I’ll wager she is bored?’

‘Senseless,’ he confirmed. ‘She hates the harem, as you would guess. She is not interested in anything it offers, from its decadence to its pampering or its riches. She couldn’t be less interested in any of it.’

‘Good. Let’s keep her bored and frustrated then.’ The Valide sipped her drink, taking a few moments to organise her thoughts. Salmeo knew to remain quiet during her pause.

‘This boat trip you want my involvement with, when is it planned for?’

‘Soon—in several days, I imagine,’ he replied.

‘Even better. It will give her a taste of freedom. And her imprisonment back in the harem
afterwards will feel all the more smothering. Let’s plan some tedious training in the meantime, shall we?’

‘Embroidery?’

She groaned, remembering the hours of soul-destroying boredom spent learning how to work on a piece of silk. ‘Precisely. And letters. No swimming or outside walks. Keep it all indoors, especially now whilst the sun is shining with its promise of summer.’

‘And?’ He knew the crux of her plan was yet to be revealed.

‘We’ll make it easy for her to try and escape.’

Salmeo made a soft sound of disbelief. ‘Do you really think she’d disobey the most important rule of the harem?’

‘She did it once before,’ Herezah replied, tapping her teeth with a blood-red painted fingernail…a habit she now couldn’t help when in deep thought.

Salmeo wasn’t convinced. ‘She had hardly arrived then and we’d just inflicted the Test of Virtue.’

‘She’s a year older, a year bolder and a year more bored with her life. She’s ripe to make another attempt. She just needs a push.’

‘You speak with knowledge, Valide,’ Salmeo commented.

‘I fought the urge every day of my life, eunuch; I sometimes think I still do,’ Herezah said, unable to disguise a slightly wistful note in her tone. ‘But
Ana believes she has the ear of the Zar and his indulgence. She’ll risk it, I promise…and just in case, I might sow the right seeds in her mind.’

‘Oh?’

‘Send her to me today. I think I’ll be giving her some responsibility in the harem. It’s timely anyway that the girls take on some special roles but I’ll endow Ana with the most trust…confide a few things in her.’

‘Let her think you might be friends?’

Herezah shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t go that far. Ana’s too much of an island but perhaps some fragile bridges might be built.’

‘And then what, Valide?’

‘I’ll tear them down and expose her. What is the harshest punishment for leaving the harem?’

‘Lashes…you’d remember that from Ana’s previous attempt at escape. But this time there’ll be no Spur Lazar to twist the rules to claim Protectorship and take the strokes on her behalf.’

‘Is that the best we can do?’

‘Well, being caught unveiled, perhaps in the company of a man, would certainly increase the punishment,’ he said, enjoying where this conversation was headed.

‘To what?’

‘Death.’ He said it coldly, without hesitation, and saw how the word appealed to her by the involuntary twitch at the corner of her mouth. The Valide was planning murder, it seemed. He loved it.

‘Mandatory?’

He nodded confidently. ‘Drowning in the Faranel is the easiest. I’m not sure anyone could save her then, bar an extraordinary set of circumstances.’

‘Such as?’ Herezah demanded.

Salmeo shrugged his huge shoulders as he considered. Then he held his great hands out, his palms shockingly pale pink against his black skin. ‘I simply can’t imagine what, Valide.’

And that was good enough for her. If Salmeo couldn’t bend his mind to a situation that might save the girl’s life, then no-one could. ‘Excellent. That’s what I want you to arrange, Salmeo.’

‘You want me to bring about her death, Valide?’ he queried innocently.

Herezah knew what he was doing. She understood he was making it unequivocally clear between them what was being planned and who was giving the orders. ‘I want you to ensure she is somehow found in that unforgivable position you suggested and cannot be saved from the consequences. The rest is up to the laws of our harem.’

‘And the Zar, Valide. What of his interests?’

She frowned, not understanding. ‘What do you mean, Salmeo?’

‘Only that if he was on side it would be easier to manipulate the law in our favour,’ he said gently, his eyes heavy-lidded, intrigue spicing his tone.