Odalisque (32 page)

When Ana woke the following morning, Pez was back at her side. He was wearing a madly coloured knitted cap, which hugged his squarish head to make him look all the more ridiculous in the multihued clothes he was wearing.

‘Do you like my new garb?’ he asked.

She gave a wan smile. ‘No-one will miss you in them.’

They both looked sadly at each other for a few moments and Pez reached to take her hand.

She looked earnestly into his strangely yellow eyes. ‘Is it true? Not just a bad dream?’

‘Lazar is dead,’ he said as gently as he could, although the words still caught in his throat. It felt as though he was speaking a lie, no doubt because he wasn’t ready to believe in such a loss either. ‘Jumo sailed yesterday to find his family. And Horz will pay with his life today for murder of the Spur.’

‘Horz?’ she exclaimed, fully awake now. She sat up. ‘He did not do such a thing.’

Pez gave a small shrug. ‘No-one knows the
truth, child. He has admitted it to the Zar in front of witnesses.’

‘Then he has been forced into speaking a lie.’

‘I’m sure that notion hasn’t gone undetected, but there is nothing to be done about this. And it should not be something that affects you anyway.’

‘The death of an uncle?’ she said, her voice hard and flat. ‘No wonder Boaz asked me to confirm it.’

‘Call him the Zar, Ana. It’s important you keep your head very low now. Are you telling me Horz was kin to you?’

She nodded, glad for the admonishment. ‘I promise you I will be careful.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Yes, Horz is my father’s brother, but we kept it secret.’ She shrugged. ‘Neither of us said anything about it when we first saw each other in the Choosing Room and we kept it that way. Pez, I’m not sure I want to live. My life is stretching out before me. It looks long and pointless in the harem. And now with Lazar dead because of me…’ She couldn’t finish.

He pulled out a spotted silk square. ‘Dry those eyes, Ana, and bury that hurt, I beg you. There is no-one in this harem who cares about you now but me. I will protect you as I promised Lazar. Lazar is gone, though, Ana, and he would have been gone for you anyway. You would not have been permitted to see anyone other than the harem members or the Zar. You must accept it. Put it from your mind.’

She looked at him as though he spoke in a different language. ‘Put him out of my mind? How can you ask this of me? I loved him,’ she said fiercely.

He was not shocked by her admission. Pez glanced around and made a hushing sound. ‘So did I, child. And whether or not it was the same sort of love, it matters not. I will miss him, so will Boaz, so will Jumo, but we must all get on somehow. You must rise above your pain and forge a new life, for you would never have been permitted to love him except as a distant memory. I gather you’ve already caught the Zar’s eye—that in itself should give you hope.’

‘To be his concubine, you mean? At his beck and call, to service his sexual needs?’

Pez gave a tutting sound. ‘You do view it dimly. Give the young Zar a chance. You may be surprised. He is not obsessed with carnal pleasure. He is actually something of a scholar, and charming company. I was thinking of something way beyond concubine for you, Odalisque Ana. I see no reason why you will not be a wife, if not Absolute Favourite.’

‘It doesn’t change anything, Pez,’ she said morosely. ‘I’m still a prisoner.’

‘Only of your own mind. The Zar is talking about change. He’s planning a picnic for the girls—and that’s just the beginning.’

She looked at him. ‘You mean I can effect change through him?’

He grinned. ‘Good girl. Look ahead, Ana. Pretend Lazar is not dead. Just tell yourself you can’t see him any more. It’s what they would have done to you anyway. Time will heal that pain in your heart, I promise. Make your own destiny, child.’

His words roused a new sense of hope. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you look like a bird?’ she said suddenly and regained a small sense of her amusement at the look of surprise that claimed his face.

After the previous day’s unpleasantries Boaz was taking his first meal late, slumped in a small alcove off his main study. It was an eating chamber that his father had built a few years prior so that he could take a private meal during a working day.

It was fully tiled—every last inch of wall was covered in beautifully glazed squares, each bearing a fruit. It had been quite a daring design for its time, and in fact still was, and yet it was one of Boaz’s favourite chambers in the whole palace. He loved that it was his, even though he was not paying it his usual sense of wonder.

The Zar munched absently on the meal that Bin had personally laid out for him, the intuitive servant deciding that the last thing the Zar wanted was a team of fussing attendants, putting out food and waiting on his every whim.

Bin had assumed correctly and once again Boaz was grateful to his servant’s ability to anticipate his needs. He was replaying Horz’s confession over in his mind as he chewed on some roasted lamb smeared with a pungent garlic and yoghurt sauce. It was delicious, cooked specifically for the Zar much earlier this morning in the private kitchens of the royals, but he tasted none of it, not even the fat ripe figs also picked that morning. Bin would do the right thing and let the Zar’s dining staff know that the food had been enjoyed. They worked hard, striving to satisfy the palate of the youngster who was still not adventurous with his food but needed to develop a sophisticated taste so he could entertain and be entertained in style.

The kitchens never stopped, their fires fanned every hour of every day to prepare hundreds of dishes for the countless people in the palace who needed to be fed. They took up one whole wing; a dozen huge chimneys billowing smoke all day and all night in separate units that were linked by short corridors. The harem was normally serviced by three of these units, one devoted exclusively to the Valide Zara and the wives. These had not cranked up to full output yet, of course, for the new harem, but it would not take long. Another eight were given over to dignitaries, soldiers, the Elim and all the other people attached to the palace. The final one stood alone in a closed unit. This was for the Zar’s food. He had his own
vegetable and herb gardens. He even had his own orchard. No food ever crossed from any of the other units into this one. The kitchen staff was hand-picked and trained rigorously, not just in cooking, but in discretion as well as security. Bin was aware that a good relationship with the kitchen team meant they would always go to extraordinary lengths to please their Zar. It also meant they would be vigilant and never permit strangers to have any access to his food. This last point was of paramount importance.

Bin mentioned it now to the young Zar as he entered to re-fill Boaz’s glass. ‘My Zar, the Vizier has made a suggestion that I think has merit. Perhaps you’ll permit me to mention it?’

‘Oh yes? What does he suggest for me?’

‘Well, my Zar, Vizier Tariq is mindful that without the Spur our security is compromised. Until we find a worthy replacement—’

‘There is no worthy replacement,’ Boaz cut in. ‘There is no replacement at all in fact. I am not ready to accept his death and so I have no intention of putting another man into that position.’

‘Of course, Great One. Well, in the absence of that position Vizier Tariq wants to throw a permanent guard around your kitchen. He thinks it’s a fundamental aspect of palace security, that everything connected with the Zar is checked, double-checked and triple-checked and nowhere is more vulnerable than where your food is prepared.’

Boaz was surprised. Tariq showing concern? If anything Tariq had treated him with not very well hidden disdain when he was nothing but a prince and even around his father’s death the man was condescending. ‘And when did he suggest this ?’

‘Last night, my Zar.’

‘Who does he think should do this?’

‘He believes there is no-one more trustworthy than the Elim. He thinks the Valide should select the team. She knows all of the more senior members of the Elim.’

‘He says this even though one of the Elim has proven to be a traitor?’

Bin said nothing to this but when Boaz glanced at the man’s face he could see that Bin and presumably the Vizier believed the story of Horz’s treachery almost as much as when Pez told them all once that he could fly.

‘I should like to see the Vizier.’

‘I shall summon him immediately.’

Vizier Tariq was announced and there was none of the usual flouncing bows that Boaz expected.

‘My Zar,’ he said softly, and he touched his hand to his lips and heart as he bowed graciously.

Boaz immediately noticed how sombrely the Vizier was dressed—this in itself was unusual. But the surprise was noticing that gone were the tinkling bells and sparkling jewels from the beard. In fact the beard was no longer forked. It
ended in a neat plait. The normally ostentatious affectations were vanishing before his eyes, Boaz decided.

He couldn’t help mentioning it. ‘Vizier Tariq, are you well?’

‘I am, thank you, High One,’ he said, straightening.

‘No, I mean, you don’t seem quite…er, yourself.’

‘How odd, my Zar. Your mother suggested the same thing only yesterday.’

‘Nothing’s wrong?’ Boaz enquired.

‘Not at all. I don’t believe I’ve felt better in fact.’

‘Good,’ the Zar replied, unsure of what else he could say. ‘Please, join me,’ he added, gesturing towards a long cushion on the floor opposite him.

‘This is a wonderful chamber,’ Tariq said. ‘Your father had such fine taste in art forms.’

‘Yes. I wish he hadn’t worked so hard to hide it.’

‘I’m not sure he did. Just look at this room,’ he said, sweeping a hand gently around him, ‘it is so advanced for the age. And consider all the additions he made to the palace—each has superbly enhanced its beauty but paving a way for its future rather than looking to its past glory. His wives, especially your mother, were chosen with an eye not just for their exquisite looks, but for their intelligence. Whatever his own desires were in terms of whom he spent his
time with, he was again looking to the future. He wanted heirs with nimble, shrewd minds.’

Boaz had never heard an observation from the Vizier in all the years he had known him. Tariq was usually one for agreeing with the powers-that-be.

Tariq was not finished. ‘And his faith in his own judgement has been borne out in you, my Zar, if I may say so. From what I know of you, there is a very good blend of the finer qualities of both of your parents.’

‘Oh yes?’ Boaz replied, amused now. ‘What have I won from my mother?’ He knew the Vizier would normally lavish him with praise now but he was intrigued to know how the man would handle this question.

‘Her looks obviously,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘But from what I can see, since you’ve assumed your new role you also have her intuitiveness. And that is a quality to be admired.’

Sparse, direct, brief. Boaz was amazed. ‘And my father?’

‘Well, your father was shrewd indeed. I’ll admit his interest in life around him lapsed towards the end of his reign but he will be remembered for his incisive decisions. Joreb—may Zarab keep him—was never one to shirk making his stand. Right or wrong he made decisions swiftly. You showed that same courage yesterday, my Zar, if you don’t mind me mentioning it. That was a very difficult situation—and not one any of us would like to
have faced. No-one present could be anything but impressed with your composure and ability to make that toughest of all judgements. Sending a man to his death is easy if you have little conscience.’

There, it was said. Boaz had to swallow his desire to leap onto the Vizier’s comment, carefully couched to suggest that it was clear Horz was lying and taking the blame for a dark deed he played no part in.

‘It weighs heavily on my mind nonetheless,’ Boaz followed up, equally careful not to commit himself one way or the other.

He saw the recognition of this flash briefly in the Vizier’s eyes before it was shrouded. The man was applauding him. ‘It was the right decision to make, my Zar, if that helps.’

‘I’ve been struggling with it ever since,’ Boaz admitted in spite of his suspicions over the Vizier.

‘As you should. If you didn’t that would be more curious. Of course the whole business of the Spur’s death is a curiosity, wouldn’t you say, my Zar?’

Tariq cut a path deep into Boaz’s pain. He felt powerless to hide his own feelings with the Vizier using such honesty. ‘I will not rest easy until I have the truth,’ Boaz confirmed, glad that he didn’t overreact to such a brutal question.

‘So you doubt Horz?’

‘How can I? The man has confessed.’

The Vizier said nothing but the searching look said droves.

‘I suspect there is far more to the truth than we have learned,’ Boaz answered more fully. ‘That is what I will search for in my own way and over time. For now the people will be satisfied that justice has been seen to be done.’

‘Bravo, my Zar. You are thinking like a pragmatist.’

For the first time ever Boaz felt proud to be complimented by the Vizier. ‘May I offer you some zerra, Tariq?’

Tariq smiled inwardly. ‘I would be delighted, High One, thank you.’

Bin, who had been quietly attending from the shadows of the room, now lit only by two hanging oil lanterns, emerged from his dark corner to pour out a glass for the Vizier.

‘Thank you, my Zar.’ He sipped and his expression of pleasure said enough about the quality of the zerra. ‘There are some changes I’d like to effect. If you would permit I would like your kitchen to be permanently observed by the Elim.’

‘Bin mentioned this. Is it really necessary?’

‘I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t think it was important, my Zar,’ Tariq said, belatedly realising what a contradiction that was for anyone who knew the old Vizier. This was confirmed by the grin that the Zar could not force back. ‘Do I amuse?’ Tariq asked, knowing full well he did in this instance.

‘Forgive me, Tariq, whatever this change is that has come over you, I just want you to know
that I appreciate our conversation. Are you aware of how different you sound?’