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Authors: Fiona McIntosh

Odalisque (34 page)

BOOK: Odalisque
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He was taking a rest after a practice session when the soldiers came for him. They were angry too. News had flared around the barracks as fast as a raging fire that their leader was dead—killed by the ineptness of an apprentice Inflictor
who was also deep in a conspiracy led by debt and greed, or so the story was shaping with each new telling. Salmeo would be pleased at how his fabricated tale was being embellished by gossip.

Shaz was dragged from his bed, slapped and punched, kicked and shoved as the four men moved him, without explanation, from his tiny room to the Pit, where he joined Horz, saddened to hear the young man’s cries. It didn’t take much for the former Elim to understand what had transpired and to give a nod of appreciation in the darkness of his stone cell at Salmeo’s cunning.

He and Shaz would die tomorrow for a deed they were innocent of, but Horz would die proudly, calmly, he knew this. He was ready, had accepted his fate from the moment Salmeo began his threats. The Elim were trained to accept their destiny. This was his. He was only regretful that his death was not enough for Salmeo and that the boy had to die too. Poor Shaz. He sent a prayer to Zarab that the ending of their lives would be swift, if not for him, then certainly for the young man.

28

Pez sat in the marble coolness of the palace infirmary and watched Kett hobble back unaided. They were alone.

‘Is it working properly?’ he asked carefully.

‘With the help of the tube,’ the boy answered and turned away so the dwarf would not have to share his troubles.

‘It’s all right, Kett. I won’t say I understand—how can I? But I do understand your grief. I think it is important to weep and mourn your loss.’

‘The Grand Master Eunuch came to see me,’ the boy replied after clearing his throat.

‘And?’

‘He wants me to present myself for duty tomorrow.’

‘Has he given you a role yet?’

‘No. I’ll just be one of his slaves and my dream of working for Spur Lazar must be buried,’ Kett answered, the pain of his shattered hopes clear.

Pez realised yet another person whose life had been touched by Lazar would grieve. ‘Kett, be patient. There are wheels turning that I can’t
explain just yet. I’m optimistic you may have a role to your liking.’

‘Oh?’

The hope in the boy’s voice was gut-wrenching. ‘I will tell you more when I know.’

‘Pez, may I be plain with you?’

‘Of course, I am with you.’

‘Yes, that’s what troubles me. You are sane.’

Pez smiled. ‘Our secret.’

‘The Zar knows, doesn’t he?’

‘He lied to you only to protect me. He has known since he was old enough to talk,’ Pez said. ‘And now you know.’

The boy’s grim countenance faltered briefly as a grin surfaced but was gone almost as fast as it arrived. He hadn’t known Pez long enough to be shocked by the news. ‘I am privileged.’

Pez was reminded of the youngster’s claim to be the black bird, the raven. He didn’t know what this augured but the voice inside counselled that Kett might also be one of the players in the battle ahead. He couldn’t know yet whether Kett was a disciple of Maliz or whether he supported the Goddess. His instincts told him it was the latter and Pez trusted instinct. He had to keep this boy close and especially to Ana, if possible. Even in this he had no guidance, only a vague feeling that this was the right path.

‘So you will keep my secret.’ It was a statement, not a question.

But Kett nodded solemnly, his hand touching
his forehead before settling over his heart. ‘I shall take it to my grave.’ And Pez trusted him.

‘I have some news,’ he said solemnly. ‘You have been recuperating so I presume no-one has told you yet of what has happened to Spur Lazar.’

The boy shook his head. ‘What do you mean happened? Is he hurt?’

‘Worse,’ Pez answered grimly, and with only a vague feeling that he was somehow connected to this child, he proceeded to tell Kett the entire sordid tale.

There was nothing Kett could say when it was told. He stared at the ground, deeply upset and silent. Finally he spoke. ‘He tried to have me spared,’ he said, voice trembling.

‘Yes, Lazar was not one to tolerate anyone suffering. He would have thought your punishment grossly out of kilter with the sin.’

‘As was his own. At least I’m alive.’

Pez swallowed his own sadness. ‘Good, Kett. That’s the spirit, child. You are alive. The gods have spared you and perhaps there is good reason for this.’

‘I have a purpose?’ the boy asked with hefty disdain in his voice. ‘I’ll grow fat and act like a woman.’

‘I don’t notice any fat Elim, and none of them could be accused of acting in any way but fearsomely and loyally.’

‘Not their leader, it seems,’ the boy countered, his anger still evident.

Pez’s own flared. ‘Don’t be so sure, Kett. There are things in motion here that you cannot understand. If you believe that Horz is guilty of murder then I feel more sorry for you than I already do. You did know Horz, I gather?’

The boy, duly reprimanded, nodded. ‘He is as worthy of death as I was to be gelded.’

‘That’s right. He is taking the blame for someone else’s dark deeds.’

‘Why don’t you say something?’

‘Do you suppose that people haven’t already guessed as much? The fact is Horz is admitting guilt—that’s impossible to counter. And anyway, who would listen to the ravings of a lunatic?’

‘But you’re not!’

‘Very few know that, Kett. It is our secret, one I need you to keep for me.’

‘Why is it that you trust me?’

Pez shook his head. ‘I feel compelled. I think we were meant to meet. I just wish it wasn’t under such circumstances.’

‘Will you be honest with me, now that we share this secret?’

Pez nodded slowly. ‘I promise.’

‘How is it that the guards saw me but neither you nor our Zar?’

The dwarf had been expecting this question. ‘Another secret.’

‘You can trust me, Pez.’

‘I have the Lore.’

The boy’s eyes widened. ‘The Lore,’ he repeated, as if the very word itself was precious. ‘Why didn’t you hide me then?’

Pez looked pained. ‘I couldn’t. Sustaining the invisibility for two was hard enough and I knew it would only last for a few moments. They knew someone was behind that screen and I couldn’t risk them searching. I couldn’t risk the Zar being found. I’m sure you understand.’

‘So I was sacrificed,’ Kett said sadly.

‘You shouldn’t have been there,’ Pez answered mildly.

‘Neither should you.’

‘But I had the Zar to consider. It was my fault he was present.’

‘So what are you here for?’

‘I honestly don’t know,’ he said, which was partly true.

‘Who else knows?’

‘Oh you’re part of a very elite few. I can list them on one hand,’ Pez said, counting off using his fingers. ‘Lazar knew, of course. And his servant Jumo, Zar Boaz, Odalisque Ana and a priestess called Zafira all know.’

‘And now me.’

‘Yes.’

‘What is your purpose in keeping your sanity secret?’

‘Each has asked this same question. I answer the same way: I don’t know. I have acted this way since the moment I entered Percheron as a
prisoner. It caught the attention of the men who buy slaves for the palace. I was fortunate that the old Zar happened to be travelling through the slave market one afternoon. He saw me, laughed at my antics and had someone buy me for him. I’ve been at the palace ever since. That was two decades ago.’

Kett’s eyes widened with surprise, ‘How old are you?’

‘Ancient,’ Pez replied, knowing now this was truth.

‘I will not betray you,’ said Kett.

‘And that faith will be rewarded.’

‘How?’

‘You will see.’

‘You are not required to be present, Boaz,’ Pez advised.

‘But I must be, don’t you see. Horz is lying—and he knows I know.’

‘I still don’t understand.’

‘Yes you do. This is about honour. I will honour Horz for his noble sacrifice. What the Elim don’t realise is how loyal he is. He is giving his life protecting his symbolic leader.’

‘So you accept this is Salmeo’s doing?’

‘I never doubted it, Pez. I just can’t prove it.’

‘And now Shaz is to die as well. Must it be so?’

‘If I don’t Salmeo will spread the word—as cunningly as we know he can—throughout Percheron that I did not punish the co-conspirator.
He has hatched this plan to cover his tracks. Now he has rid himself of the two people who might have revealed him, and the other, Rah, has been coerced to the point where he would rather lie to me than risk whatever Salmeo has threatened him with.’

‘Justice must be seen to be done—is this it?’

‘Precisely.’

‘Someone else somewhere will know something.’

‘I can’t imagine who, but if you can find that someone bring them to me.’ Boaz sighed. ‘What if I let myself down?’

‘You won’t, child.’

‘How can you be sure?’ And Boaz understood. ‘The Lore?’ The dwarf nodded. ‘I thought you said you never wanted to use it.’

‘Well, I had to as you know.’

‘But again?’ Boaz asked with wonder, still fascinated by Pez’s skill.

‘If you’ll do something for me.’

The Zar gave his friend a look of gentle warning. ‘Now what?’

‘We talked about it before. A servant for Ana when the time is right.’

‘Kett, you mean?’

Pez nodded. ‘Salmeo’s told him to report tomorrow. I’m not sure how much he’s capable of just yet but the Chief Eunuch insists he be given his tasks.’

‘And you want him trained in the harem? What’s your interest in Kett?’

‘I feel responsible,’ Pez answered, not altogether untruthfully.

‘As you should,’ Boaz grumbled. ‘He obviously knows about you now?’

‘Yes, I’ve shown myself to him.’

‘Zarab save us, soon you’ll be sharing it over quishtar with my mother and I’ll no longer have the worst-kept secret in Percheron! All right. I shall see what can be done—I too feel responsible for his unhappy situation.’

Pez gave a brief bow. ‘Thank you, my Zar.’

‘It cannot happen immediately. Give it some time. Let him fully heal. Let all of us fully heal from this turbulence that the palace is coping with. Give me up to twelve moons.’

Pez nodded. It was longer than he had hoped but he was not in a position to argue. ‘Until next summer, then.’

‘You have my word.’

‘Thank you, my Zar.’

‘Just stay close today, will you? I’m filled with dread and you’re the only one I can admit it to.’

‘I will protect you.’

The Zar was transported in the curtained, slave-carried karak. They weren’t travelling far but their journey was via countless manicured gardens and various gateways—six in all—that had to be passed in order to reach the main courtyard that accessed the city itself. They would not leave the palace grounds proper but stop in the Moon
Courtyard where, for centuries, zars had climbed a special royal stairway that led them to the parapet from which they could view public exhibitions, processions, entertainments and executions.

Boaz did not like travelling in the karak, having never quite grown out of his childish nausea at the swaying sensation. It niggled at him now like an unwelcome but familiar visitor as he sat unhappily on silk cushions. Next to him sat Pez, dressed in identical clothes.

‘Bit scratchy, aren’t they?’ the dwarf commented in an effort to divert his Zar from the ordeal ahead.

‘Wardrobe thought it fitting that you be seen fully as the fool.’

Pez spoke softly so he could not be overheard. ‘Is that so? You should be cautious that they don’t inadvertently make you look the fool, my Zar.’

Boaz found a small grin—it felt like his first in an age. Then his expression darkened again. ‘How bad is it going to be, Pez? Tell me honestly.’

Pez realised the diversion hadn’t worked. He pursed his thick lips, for honesty was probably the last thing Boaz needed right now but it was also necessary. ‘Worse than you can possibly imagine. You know of Riding the Needle but, Boaz, you have no conception of how truly shocking a death it is. As for Shaz, he is to be ganched, is this right?’ Boaz nodded mournfully. ‘Have you seen it occur?’

‘No. My father maintained there was more than enough time for me to see sights of this magnitude.’

‘Joreb was right to protect you from it and no doubt hoped you wouldn’t have to deal with such things until later in life. Spiking is cruel beyond belief, Boaz. They haul the victim up on pulleys on a special scaffolding from which are hung terrible, sharpened hooks. The victim is dropped from a height and the fun of the spectacle for the crowd is to see where on his body the vicious hooks snag. If he’s lucky it’s across an artery so death is relatively swift.’

‘And if not?’ Boaz asked, his feeling of nausea suddenly much worse.

‘If it’s through his belly or chest he takes a long time to die.’

‘I’m not going to be able to watch this,’ Boaz warned.

‘You have no choice.’

‘What if I can’t help but close my eyes or look away?’

‘I won’t let you. My magic can compel as skilfully as it repels, my Zar.’ The swaying karak halted. ‘We are here,’ Pez added unnecessarily, sneaking a look outside.

The sound of the people’s excited murmuring from the other side of the thick walls was loud enough to tell them that a large crowd had gathered for the executions.

‘Why do they want to watch this?’ Boaz murmured.

‘Morbid curiosity, dark fascination, macabre entertainment.’

‘Then I make myself a promise to provide new entertainment for my people. We are a nation that prides itself on culture, Pez, why…’ He couldn’t say any more.

‘Boaz,’ Pez began firmly as the Zar began to gulp air. ‘I applaud your sentiment. But public execution has its place. It is a valuable reminder, if nothing else, that life—no matter who you are or what your situation might be—is precious. Any potential law breakers watching will know after today that you do not tolerate anyone who thinks they are above your laws.’

Boaz nodded but Pez wasn’t finished. ‘Your subjects will know after today, High One, that whilst you could so easily have covered up the crime within your own palace, you have been ruthless with one of your own. No-one will miss this point.’

Boaz hardly heard his friend’s words. He was sure he was going to vomit. Pez fixed him with a fierce stare, which somehow gave Boaz strength, then the dwarf rolled out of the karak squealing.

Boaz fought back his fear and emerged sedately, squinting slightly at the harsh light of the hot morning, a drier one, aided by a soft breeze. The sky was a bright canvas for the sun to splash her golden rays across, interrupted briefly
by a few scudding clouds—leftovers from the previous days of overcast skies. But there would be no rain today to wash away the blood or the stench of death.

Boaz was already sweating into his formal robes, and the wrapped silk about his head made him feel even hotter but this had little to do with the weather. Pez rolled back to him and took his hand, acting like one of the monkeys Boaz used to be so amused by in his father’s zoo.

‘Beware, my Zar. Salmeo has plotted another surprise.’

Ana and a few of the girls had been assembled in a large airy chamber that enjoyed a sweet breeze that blew in off the Faranel through the huge square courtyard adjacent. Most of the young women were enjoying sitting around the grand stone fountain with its gentle spumes of water coming from sculpted fishes’ mouths. But Ana remained in the chamber itself, admiring the exquisitely pretty tiles depicting the tree of life. She was feeling sorry for three of the youngest odalisques, who were barely out of childhood and found some small comfort in each other. They stood apart from the rest of the girls who were all of similar age. One of the three was only nine summers and looked permanently terrified, and with good reason, Ana thought, knowing full well the hated Salmeo would not have spared young Eishar his special private exploration of her body.

BOOK: Odalisque
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