The Harem Master (2 page)

Demir left the concubines to begin their practice and slipped away again. He wanted to quit the whole miserable, wretched day when he saw Steward Bulut standing in the entrance hall. His garish robes looked unseemly even against the myriad colors of the entrance hall.

The robes were bright red, drawing out the yellow tones in Bulut's skin in a way that made it look unhealthy. They were heavily embroidered in gold, green, and orange thread, the wide cuffs of his outer robe decorated with beadwork and gold tassels. He wore enough rings on his fingers to rival the concubines, who seldom went anywhere without being heavily draped in jewels.

And he was looking at Demir the same way he always did: like he was a piece of meat Bulut couldn't wait to devour. "Good day, Steward. How can I help you?"

"I came to be certain you were aware of His Majesty's desired changes for the banquet tonight?"

"Yes, Steward," Demir replied. "The duelists are practicing now, and the rest are preparing should there be further changes. We will not disappoint."

Bulut nodded. "Good. Walk with me, I want to speak with you about another matter."

"As you wish, Steward." He followed Bulut out of the relative safety of the harem hall, walking with him through the palace.

The palace was built roughly as a series of three rectangles, one inside the other. Since it had been erected, much had been added on and changed, but that original structure remained intact. Precious few were allowed within the innermost rectangle, which housed the royal family, the harems, and private amenities for the royal family.

When he was a child, the inner sanctum had been a lively, happy place. Demir had loved his lessons, the time he spent shadowing his mother or father. As he'd gotten older, started to learn what he would need to know to someday inherit the role of Harem Master, he had looked forward to the honor. But then the king and queen had died of illness, and Kagan's vindictiveness, the meanness that had been curbed and mitigated by his parents, had come to the fore and worsened.

Being Harem Master had turned so stressful for his mother, she had retired early—and nearly taken Demir with her, upset at the thought of abandoning him to the nightmare their sacred position had become. Demir had refused; he would not abandon the harem just because it had turned into a difficult, sometimes dangerous duty.

In the years since Demir had assumed the role, the problems had increased tenfold. His only true goal now was to keep as many of the concubines alive as possible until age or assassin took Kagan's life. Hopefully whoever replaced Kagan would prove wiser and kinder.

He held his tongue as Bulut continued on in silence. It was rude to speak first when with a superior, and Bulut loved to trip people up.

The silence held until they came to the little fish pond in a pretty, open area meant for relaxing and talking. It smelled of fresh water and bright greens, the sweet honey flowers scattered about. Bulut sat on one of the lush padded benches tucked against the wall, just out of sight of anyone who might happen to stroll past the room no matter what direction they came from.

Stomach churning, Demir sat down next to him, putting as much space between them as he could without appearing rude. He tensed when Bulut rested a hand on his arm and began to stroke the lines of his tattoos. They had taken a long time to complete. Each arm, starting just below the wrist, was covered in a colorful swirl of flowers and vines, birds and clouds, fish and water, all the way up to and across his shoulders, joining at his collar bone and the top of his spine in the back. His family had always borne impressive tattoos, for as long as they had served the rulers of Tavamara. The Harem Masters were meant to be as impressive as the jewels they protected and cared for. And like those jewels, they weren't supposed to be touched save by their monarch or with permission, but Bulut ignored that rule like he did so many others.

"The council will be discussing whether or not to abolish the practice of harems," Bulut said. "It has long been a source of contention from our foreign visitors, and Tavamara needs to look good to the wider world. In light of recent tragedies, the idea has even more appeal."

Demir drew a breath and held it, counted to twenty, and then let it out slowly. He was long used to the whining and whispering from foreigners about the harems, but that they were whining loudly enough to convince the court to get rid of them… He was not inclined toward violence, but right then he wanted to hit something. When he was relatively certain his voice would come out even, he replied, "I would rather be a disgrace to the rest of the world than dishonor the Divine and all those who have come before. There is nothing to be ashamed of in passion and devotion."

"There is no passion and devotion in His Majesty's harem; there hasn't been for a long time," Bulut said, still stroking Demir's arm, fingers lingering in a possessive fashion that left Demir cold. "It's greed and gluttony and lust. It's embarrassing and serves no point. The matter is to be discussed in earnest at the next full meeting. All the councilors currently not in residence will be arriving throughout the week."

"It will never pass. The people will regard the king as weak and unloved, especially with the queen dead and his children lost." A worthy ruler was one surrounded by passion and devotion, by men or women who spent their lives serving. A good monarch was one with a loving spouse at their side, happy children behind them, and devoted concubines around them.

They had not had a good monarch in too long. Even the late king had simply been passable, his harem weak and perfunctory, but at least they had more or less wanted to be in the harem. Kings so cruel as to force men to be their concubines should have been a thing of the past.

"Oh, I think it will," Bulut said. "People are tired of seeing money wasted on pretty boys who do nothing but dance and swing swords all day. Tired of their young men being snatched away to become jewels. And today makes how many you have buried this month alone?"

"Four," Demir replied. Four men, two of them only seventeen, none of them properly of age. It was disgusting. Demir had grown up with stories of the great harems, fierce soldiers and powerful lords and ladies who cast aside everything to spend their lives loving their kings or queens. Harems that lived in happiness and harmony, not a constant state of fear. His ancestors had been masters of those great harems. If the council had their way, it sounded like Demir would be the last Harem Master, dismissed because of shame. "I do not think doing away with the harems is right. Tavamara is not other nations; we should not have to be like them to be accepted. We should stand proud of what we are, what we believe, and fix what has gone wrong—not sweep it out the door to be quickly forgotten."

Bulut's fingers climbed higher, thick and heavy, too warm as they brushed Demir's shoulder, his throat, up to his cheek. Demir held carefully still, focused on his breathing, thinking of the hot bath he would have later to scrub away the residue of Bulut's touch. "The council will do what is best for Tavamara. Sometimes a tradition becomes outdated. It is sad, but the way of things. Only the Merciful Divine are eternal. But I knew you would be concerned and that is why I came to speak to you now."

"That's very considerate of you," Demir murmured. Bulut had never been considerate a day in his life. What was his true motive?

Curling his fingers under Demir's chin, Bulut turned his face, tilted it up. "If the harem goes, there will be no use for a Harem Master. I would hate to see you cast out with nowhere to go. You belong here in the palace."

Nowhere to go? His parents lived a week away in a beautiful house along the coast. Demir had friends in the city who would take him in until he made more permanent arrangements. No longer being Harem Master would leave him devastated and without a job, but not homeless. Had Bulut completely lost his mind? "I belong in the Jeweled Garden," Demir replied. "If there is no harem, there is no Harem Master. I will go wherever the fates bid me."

"You should remain here. I could see to it you do. The king has granted me the right of concubine."

Demir would rather slit his own throat. "You are gracious, Steward, but I could not fail in my duties and then turn and seek safety in the role I failed to uphold for others. I would not dishonor my king, my family, and my charges so."

Bulut's fingers tightened painfully. "I strongly suggest you give the matter further consideration. There is no rush to reply. The meeting will not take place for nearly two weeks."

"Yes, Steward," Demir replied and grunted softly when Bulut roughly released him.

He barely held back a shudder when Bulut's hand dropped to run down his chest, fingers flicking the jeweled gold hoops on each of his nipples, tugging at the slightly larger one in his belly. Thankfully, he withdrew without touching further and stood up in a rush of gaudy silk and sticky, opulent perfume. "We'll speak again before the meeting."

Demir swallowed the bile in his throat and dipped into a low bow. "Yes, Steward. Good day to you."

Bulut smiled at him, then turned and strode off. Demir pressed the back of his hand to his mouth until the desire to scream or throw up had passed. Abandoning the bench, he went and knelt by the fish pond, dipping his fingers in the water, smiling faintly when the fish immediately rushed over to investigate. They slowly drifted away again when they realized he was not food. Demir left his hand in the cool water and looked up at the bright, clear, afternoon sky.

As though he did not have enough problems, now he needed to find a way to convince the council not to do away with the harems. Not that the king would agree, but the council had ways around that. He only wished they could depose the king. If only there was a suitable heir.

But there wasn't, and there never would be. It was only a matter of time before tensions exploded into civil war and the first and only royal bloodline of Tavamara was removed from the throne and a new line instated. Even then, the new rulers would throw out or kill anyone who had served the old rulers. It was going to be the Years of Blood all over again.

All he'd ever wanted… Well, all he'd ever wanted that he could have, was to be a good Harem Master. It was one of the few roles passed through the bloodline. Even the Stewards were handpicked by the kings and could come from anywhere. But Demir's family had always been Harem Masters, from the very first man chosen for the job when the harems were first created. Six men and five women had served as Harem Masters, all of them from his family.

And Bulut thought that he would throw away his lineage, his pride, to become the concubine of a man as despicable as the king they both served. At least Demir served faithfully. Bulut was a spider hiding in the sand, waiting to strike. If he thought Demir was wounded, easy prey…

Well, he would learn his mistake the hard way.

Standing, Demir returned to the harem hall. A servant stood there speaking with the guards. "Lord Demir, there you are." He nodded in parting to the guard then hastened over to Demir. "His Majesty requests three concubines for lunch, in now half an hour's time." He handed over a rolled-up slip of paper.

Demir opened it, read over Kagan's demands. "I will fetch suitable concubines." Returning to his office, he retrieved the master list and looked it over, then carried it with him to the living quarters of the concubines. He knocked on three doors and told each young man, "Dress to attend the king for lunch while he dines with the ambassadors from Rittu, Hadge, and Gollen." One man grimaced; the other two rolled their eyes. Demir could not blame them. The king loved to flaunt his concubines at such lunches, most often with behavior best confined to the bedroom. The three concubines Demir had selected were as comfortable with such displays as anyone could be and always handled themselves well.

Others were much more discomfited. Not a single one of them had been trained for such a life, as the younger sons and daughters of nobles and wealthy persons often were. Too many made mistakes that got them killed.

When they were ready, the men met him in the hall. "Ricep, Mesut, Gursel… be careful." He kissed each one on the cheek for luck and sent them off with a quietly murmured prayer. He wanted no more dead bodies brought to him.

After they had gone, the hall grew quiet. Too quiet. He would never grow accustomed to silence in a place that should always be as vibrant with noise as it was with color. Looking to the nearest guard, he asked, "Would you summon a servant, have them bring me wine. Something bright and refreshing, along with a light repast."

"Yes, my lord," the guard replied.

"Thank you." Demir vanished into his office and settled into the tiresome chore of paperwork, going over supply lists, future events to prepare for, training and practice that needed to be scheduled, guests who would be coming and going over the next few months… on and on it went.

Demir should have had an assistant, but he had given up the practice after one had run away and the other had been caught fucking one of the concubines. The first rule of being Harem Master was that he was to care for, but never amorously touch, the concubines except for purposes of instruction. Second rule was to be seen but never touched. His assistants must abide by the same rules. But they had all proven unfaithful. Better to work alone than with someone he could not trust.

If the palace—the kingdom—was being run the way it should, he would have been within his rights to take a knife to Bulut. As things stood, he would be one more head put to the block. Worse, he might be given to Bulut.

He looked up, smiling as a servant set a tray with wine, fruit, cheese, and bread on the corner of his desk. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Harem Master. Do you need anything further?"

"No." He smiled as the servant bowed before departing and pulled the tray closer, setting aside paperwork in favor of food and drink for a few minutes. The wine was exactly what he'd asked for, one of his favorites in fact: Afternoon Sea, a vibrant blue-green, salty and sweet, perfect against the cheeses and fruit that had been brought.