Odalisque (35 page)

‘Did you sleep well, Eishar?’ Ana asked, trying to ease the child’s fear.

‘No, I’m frightened they’ll come for me at any time,’ the girl half sobbed.

‘They?’

‘The Zar’s people,’ she answered, her voice small and frightened.

‘You must stop worrying,’ Ana reassured her. ‘I’ve met the Zar and he’s really a very gentle man. He’s quite young…about my age, and he will not be looking to call any of you three—not yet, not for a while anyway.’

She hoped she was telling the truth; she had no real idea about the Zar’s tastes or desires, but if her judgement was sound then Boaz was not interested in children; he wasn’t even interested yet in sexual congress for he could have commanded her to do his bidding when they were first alone.

Eishar reminded Ana of her small sister and she wondered how her family was getting on. The Samazen could come at any time and her father would have to bring his two small herds closer to their dwelling. He wouldn’t have her help this year and that saddened her deeply. She loved time alone with her father, especially when he would relate the tale of how he found the prettiest of babies in the scrub of the further reaches of the foothills, just before they yielded to the desert proper. A pain knifed through her when she understood that she would never see her beloved
father. And that sense of emptiness reminded her of the only other man she’d loved and that he too would never look upon her again. At least her father was alive, she comforted herself—providing he hadn’t died of heartbreak—but Lazar had died for her, because of her selfishness.

All the girls turned at the sound of the Elim arriving. Most of the older girls were excited at the prospect of being taken to the main bathing pavilion, whilst the trio of children would have liked nothing better than to be allowed to play beneath the cypress trees.

But the two Elim who arrived had not come to explain anything and the entrance of the Grand Master Eunuch set off a palpable tremor of fear amongst the girls.

‘Sisters,’ he lisped.

Everyone watching the huge man became deathly still.

Ana glanced at Eishar and the youngster looked ready to wail.

‘Welcome to your first proper day in the harem of Zar Boaz. I’m afraid to inform you that today’s activities will have to be postponed. It was my intention that you begin your formal training. However, something rather important has arisen that involves one of your number.’ He let that statement sink in before he continued. ‘We’ve come to collect Odalisque Ana,’ he finally said softly, almost sounding apologetic. ‘Where are you, Ana?’

Ana could have guessed as much that it would be her name to be called and yet she had no idea why.

‘I’m here,’ she said, making no particular effort to reveal herself.

Salmeo turned, his scar lifting slightly in a fleeting grimace. ‘Ah, there you are. Hiding were you?’

‘No, Grand Master Eunuch. I was merely keeping the younger girls company. It is all still rather frightening for them.’

‘But not for you, eh, Ana?’

‘I think you’ve already done your worst,’ she replied evenly and noticed Eishar’s glance of awe at her audacious behaviour.

‘Oh my dear,’ he tittered, ‘I’ve hardly begun. Come now, you have something to witness.’

‘Another of your spectacularly unpleasant shows?’

‘Careful, Ana,’ he warned. ‘I am tolerant because these are still early days. But once your formal training begins, the discipline will become stringent.’ He spoke to the wider audience now. ‘You should all be warned. Odalisque Ana is being shown some leniency today because she must face something…well,’ he searched theatrically for the right word, ‘shall we say unsavoury,’ and he enjoyed watching the alarm betray Ana’s composure.

A murmur passed through the girls. ‘Fret not, my lovelies, Ana will be returned to you shortly,
unharmed.’ He smiled, his tongue flicking briefly through the gap in his teeth. ‘Come, Ana,’ he added, firmly this time, and she knew not to disobey.

After being dressed and appropriately hidden behind a long dark veil, Ana was led by the same two Elim beyond the main entrance. They assisted her into a tiny curtained karak and carried her swiftly through the beautiful series of manicured gardens. She chanced pulling back the curtains a mere crack and realised they were taking her towards the Moon Courtyard. It felt as if a lifetime had passed since she was last here and yet it was only mere days ago. In a moment of crystal clarity it came to her that taking her life might be easier than facing the dullness that stretched out before her. No Lazar, no meaningful conversation with the girls who would soon see her as enemy rather than friend as the jostling for the Zar’s attention began. Thinking about Boaz gave her some hope—his intelligence, his youth, his desire not to imprison the girls of the harem but to find new ways to entertain and educate them. And dear Pez…perhaps her lifeline.

The karak was settled on the ground and Ana became aware of a constant murmur of voices. One of the Elim opened the curtain. ‘You must accompany us now.’

‘Why are we here?’ she asked, keeping her voice light and with a hint of playfulness in it. She was learning fast, although Ana suspected
the Elim had seen every approach over the years. This one, however, was young and perhaps not as experienced because he did respond.

‘There’s to be a public execution today, Miss Ana. You are required to bear witness.’

Ana gasped, shrinking back into the karak. Why hadn’t she guessed this? Salmeo was going to ensure she paid many times over for her challenge of him. She hadn’t learned anything from Pez’s careful warning—she had even baited the fat eunuch again today, impressing the younger ones and enjoying the shocked glances from the older girls. It was stupid of her and all it had served was to intensify Salmeo’s power over her. He enjoyed it too. Enjoyed it especially because he knew she could never win—no amount of defiance would ever usurp his authority over her and the power he held on her life. She was his to command.

‘I can’t,’ she implored the waiting Elim.

Now his companion, an older man, looked in, irritated by the delay. ‘Hurry,’ he snapped, ‘the Grand Master Eunuch awaits.’

‘You must come now, Miss Ana,’ the young one repeated with sympathy.

She shook her head but the older Elim reached in and all but pulled her from the karak. ‘You will behave, Odalisque Ana. I am answerable to the Grand Master Eunuch and if you give us any trouble today I will personally make your life as unpleasant as I can.’

And so the chain of misery passed down the line of command from Salmeo to his Elim. ‘It can’t get any worse,’ she said.

‘Be very sure that it can, Odalisque Ana. Now hold yourself erect and do not let the harem down.’

Boaz felt his throat close tighter still at Pez’s warning. He looked up at the great wall that surrounded the Stone Palace and its grounds. He instantly recognised the enormous bulk of Salmeo and next to him a petite figure in dark sombre robes. It was too small to be his mother, and no servant of hers would be permitted to leave the harem for the purposes of a public execution. There was only one other person who would be forced to witness this event—it had to be Odalisque Ana. Salmeo obviously intended to crush Ana’s spirit well before it took flight and gave her any delusions that she might survive the harem with her integrity and personality intact. Even his mother had learned to play to Salmeo’s rules and it would be no different for Ana—unless he himself made it different.

There were special steps cut into the wall which every Zar had mounted at one time or another, usually to make some proclamation or simply to observe his people going about their daily lives. Today these steps would afford him the best possible view of suffering. He wished with all of his heart he didn’t have to be here, but
there would be no escaping this today. He could see Pez waiting at the top for him, going about his silly antics and raising guffaws from the crowd.

The Zar of Percheron took a deep breath and began the long climb, his steps matching the rhythm of a single haunting drum that announced his impending arrival.

In the throng awaiting the two barbaric executions stood a person in a dark grey jamoosh, holding the hand of a lad, no more than ten. The youngster looked fearful, glancing up every few moments toward the intense gaze of his companion who had eyes only for the top of the palace walls and the various figures that stood upon them.

‘That’s her, that’s Odalisque Ana, standing next to the Grand Master Eunuch,’ whispered the boy.

‘I gathered,’ came the reply.

‘And the Valide Zara is here today as well. She stands near the Vizier. Can you see him?’

‘I can, although I would not have recognised him out of his garish silks and showy beard.’

The drum is sounding for the arrival of the Zar.’

‘Thank you, Teril,’ the person said and in the tone was a gentle admonishment to suggest that this was not news.

The youngster was not deterred. ‘Should we get closer?’

‘No. I think you’ll regret being here soon.’

‘I’ve attended many floggings,’ the boy boasted but not convincingly.

‘I know,’ the person said a little sadly. ‘But this is far, far worse and you know the prisoner. Have you ever seen someone die slowly in excruciating pain?’

The boy shook his head.

‘Well that’s what’s ahead for young Shaz. Perhaps we shouldn’t stay.’

‘But you asked me to bring you,’ the boy said, confused.

‘I did. But I have entirely different reasons for being here, which have nothing to do with an execution.’

‘Because of her?’ the boy asked, nodding at Ana.

‘Yes.’

‘You cannot speak to an odalisque. You should know this already.’

‘I don’t intend speaking to her. I simply needed to see her for myself, that is all. Do you see the dwarf prancing around?’

‘Yes, his name is Pez.’

‘I want you to get a note to him from me. It’s very important, very urgent. Can you do that? I will pay you.’

‘I will not accept money. You should know this too after what we’ve shared.’ The person nodded and the boy read thanks in the intense look from beneath the jamoosh. ‘Where is the note?’

‘Here.’ The figure pressed a small folded parchment into the boy’s hand.

‘Now?’

‘As soon as you can, Teril.’

‘I may have to wait until the dwarf comes back down those stairs.’

‘I can never thank you enough for helping me in this way.’

‘Then our debt is settled?’

‘Fully.’ The figure put a hand on the youngster’s head. ‘Be careful. No-one else must read this but the Zar’s jester.’

‘I understand. But how will you walk? You needed my help before.’

‘I shall manage,’ came the brusque reply and the lad gave a brief farewell before melting away into the crowd.

The figure in the jamoosh glanced up at Ana, turned unsteadily, the pain of exertion hidden beneath the veiling garments, and then hobbled away on two gnarled walking sticks.

Boaz was given a tumultuous welcome from the city of Percheron. It was not often they saw their ruler in person and the fact that this was their new Zar prompted great cheering and excitement. He stood, suddenly tall and lean, but with broad shoulders, not at all like his stout father of later years. Although few had ever seen his mother they knew her by reputation to be an incredible beauty and this young man’s dark curly hair and altogether handsome appearance suggested he resembled the new Valide’s famed looks. Many in the crowd had been surprised but also delighted to hear of the young Zar’s proclamation of not one but two public executions so early into his reign. There had been rumours that the young man was studious, bordering on scholarly, and those rumours had gathered momentum to suggest that he was also squeamish in nature. Several of the more outspoken city leaders had tactfully queried amongst themselves whether this prince was cut out for the role of Zar and whether he could rule with a firm hand. Others had replied, quite rightly, that his
father—once so feared in his prime—would have chosen carefully from the many heirs on offer. Joreb would not select a boy unable to summon the kind of strength needed to hold Percheron in his grip.

And now Boaz was seemingly proving his father correct. To onlookers the young man seemed far from timid as he acknowledged the crowd’s welcome.

‘All right?’ Pez whispered to his Zar, even though no-one stood close enough on the parapet to overhear him.

‘Yes, surprisingly. Are you using it on me?’

‘Not yet,’ Pez lied. ‘You are handling yourself perfectly. I’m proud of you.’ Pez was channelling his magic so gently that Boaz could not feel it. Soon the Zar might be more conscious of the Lore but for now Pez wanted to instil confidence in this young man.

‘Do I keep smiling at everyone?’

‘You’re giving them precisely what they want. Soon you will call for silence so that your executioners can proceed.’

Boaz raised a hand and on that signal a hush washed across the crowd. He nodded gravely towards the fearsome-looking palace executioner. ‘He did this for my father for so many years,’ he uttered softly to his friend.

As the man began to announce the sentences Boaz looked surreptitiously away towards Ana.

‘It’s not right that she’s here,’ he whispered angrily.

‘I don’t know why you’re surprised.’

Boaz grimaced. ‘I thought that with Lazar’s flogging and subsequent death it was over between Salmeo and Ana.’

Pez frowned. ‘Don’t be naive, Boaz. It’s only just begun.’

They stopped talking as a small gate was opened in the palace wall and the two victims were led out. One walked proudly, the other was jabbering and crying, needing to be all but carried between the two Elim who escorted him.

‘Oh Zarab! Poor Shaz,’ Boaz whispered, his tone fraught, and Pez knew the gentle channelling was done with.

Herezah leaned towards Tariq. ‘Is it really necessary for me to be here?’

‘Forgive me for imposing upon your goodwill, Valide. I felt our young Zar needed your support today.’

She stared at the Vizier for a long time, long enough to make him frown. ‘Tariq,’ she finally said, ‘I don’t know what to make of you at the moment.’

‘What do you mean, Valide?’ he asked softly, ignoring the executioner’s drone below, the apprentice’s hysterics and the excited whisperings of the crowd.

‘I mean that I cannot make you out. There is something about you that doesn’t fit with my image of our Vizier.’ He chuckled deep in his
throat. It was a nice sound to her ears, unlike anything she’d heard from Tariq in all the years she’d known him. ‘And there’s that laugh. I’ve never heard you make such a genuine sound of amusement, Tariq.’

‘And how has it been before, Valide?’

‘Like a sycophant,’ she answered directly. ‘I’ve watched you calculate your fake chortles for years. In fact everything about the Tariq I recall is calculated and controlled.’ She shook her head. ‘Your amusement just now sounded utterly genuine.’

‘It was,’ he replied, glancing down to where Shaz was wailing as he heard his sentence.

The Valide bit her lip beneath her veil in thought. ‘I’ve also never thought you cared much for Boaz.’

‘I didn’t.’ He smiled at the obvious shock registered in her eyes. ‘What I mean is, until a short while ago your son was simply another heir…another prince in waiting. Suddenly he is our Zar, the Chosen One. I do care about our Zar, Valide, and I especially care that this one is still young enough to need guidance from those who have some wisdom to share.’

‘You see, Tariq, this doesn’t sound a bit like you,’ she whispered.

He smiled once again and it was flirtatious, his eyes, seemingly younger, sparkling as they never had before. ‘I can’t imagine who I sound like then.’

‘It’s as if there’s an intruder. Someone has stolen Tariq’s body.’

The Vizier had to temper his desire to throw back his head and laugh loudly. ‘Perhaps someone has. Would you like me to go by a different name?’

It was Herezah’s turn to stare quizzically. ‘No, that will not be necessary. I can’t say I’m not impressed though. I like the curious metamorphosis you seem to be going through, I like it very much and I can only put it down to the brew you are taking. I see your stoop is all but gone—it is clearly working.’

‘Thank you. I do feel stronger than I have in a long time.’

‘And I’m especially pleased that your concern is, for once, not selfishly shown,’ she added, ignoring his wry glance which suggested her feelings were somewhat hypocritical. ‘I do think Boaz has been especially brave in his decisions regarding these two about to die—they were necessary and he made the right choice—but I know this will be taking every ounce of his courage to stand here and bear witness.’

The Vizier looked thoughtful. ‘Boaz will make a great Zar with the right people around him. He has his mother’s extraordinary looks and poise to charm people, combined with the warrior bearing of his father to intimidate them. It’s a prized mix.’

‘I would never have thought it but I think you’re right—these last few days he has reminded me strongly of a young Joreb.’

‘We must remember, though, that he is still young enough to be influenced and we have no idea who is influencing him.’

Herezah was taken by surprise. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Nothing sinister. I may have taken little more than a cursory interest in him previously, but now he is Zar I will be taking a far more proprietorial interest on behalf of the Percherese. Who does he defer to? Where does he go for advice? I need to know more about him.’

‘I can’t believe we’re having this conversation, Tariq. You’ve known the boy since he was born—you’d know as well as I that his two great friends are the hated dwarf and the Spur. Now Lazar is gone and my son is left with a halfwit as his closest companion.’

Tariq turned and stared at Pez who was standing on one leg, threatening to overbalance into the crowd beneath, clearly in his own world.

‘I had Yozem, my crone, do a blood reading on him, you know,’ Herezah added casually.

‘And?’

‘Nothing. Pez is blank to her. She is unable to read him at all.’

‘Is that common?’

Herezah snorted. ‘She has never failed me previously.’

‘I see,’ Tariq muttered, distracted, a vague sense of gentle magic swirling about him. He tried to follow it, lock onto it, but he couldn’t. It was as
though it knew it was being hunted. He had no idea where it was coming from. He returned to his thoughts and focused on the dwarf
I must take more interest in you too, Pez,
he thought to himself.
Perhaps there’s more to you than meets the eye.

On the wall, still dancing, Pez prayed to the Goddess that she would protect him from discovery as he carefully channelled his magic.

Everything formal that had to be said was now spoken. Above the pitiful moans of Shaz, the executioner turned to Boaz for the next item of theatre before they got down to the serious business of killing two men.

Boaz took a deep breath. He had one last hope of saving a life today whilst not allowing anyone present to doubt his sincerity of intent. ‘Good people of Percheron,’ he began and the crowd below became silent. ‘The law of the Zar has been proclaimed. Shaz the Inflictor and Horz of the Elim have betrayed me and they are now under the shadow of death for their treachery. That said, I am mindful of the old traditions of our nation, too many of them lost in recent times. I am hopeful that together we might rekindle some of our passion for the rituals observed by our ancestors that have made us the wealthy, educated and cultured people that we are today.’ Whistles and cheers rippled through the people.

Boaz raised a hand for silence. ‘To this end, and as Zar Baelzeemen did three centuries ago, I
hand over the power of the Crown to the people.’ This won more applause, even though no-one in the mob understood what he was referring to.

But the Vizier did. Maliz had lived long enough to have known the reign of Zar Baelzeemen. ‘He’s far cleverer than any of us have credited,’ he said.

‘What do you know?’ Herezah demanded.

‘My history—as does your son. The Zar he refers to had a habit of allowing the crowd to show mercy when there were two or more executions planned on the same day.’

Herezah had no time to reply because Boaz was speaking again.

‘People of Percheron, if there is ever an occasion during my reign when more than one person is to be executed on the same day, I will allow you to overrule, if you so choose, and show mercy to the condemned. Zar Baelzeemen was a compassionate man and I intend to rule with the same sense of humanity. I cannot forgive these two prisoners for what they have done—I must not, in fact—but you can reprieve one of the sentences if you so choose.

‘Raise your hands, people, if you wish to see Horz of the Elim suffer the consequences of his dark actions,’ he shouted, emotion lacing his voice as he hoped against hope that they might spare the older man. The crowd roared its response back, their arms raised in unison.

Horz would die today.

Boaz swallowed his disappointment. It had been too much to ask for. He called upon them again and now even Shaz had stopped his groaning to find out if the Percherese had any sympathy for his plight and pleas of innocence.

‘Having heard his deeds, raise your hands if you wish to see Shaz the Apprentice Inflictor pay the price I am exacting for his part in the Spur’s demise.’

There was an embarrassed murmur followed by an awkward silence as only sixty or so hands from the two hundred or more present shot into the air.

Pez began clapping from relief but he turned it into a joke, mugging for the audience, making whooping sounds as though he didn’t really understand what his excitement was for. Boaz laid a hand on his companion’s shoulder and the dwarf became still immediately.

‘See how he can control him,’ Herezah whispered to the Vizier. ‘No-one else can.’

Tariq nodded, intrigued now by Pez. He stole a glance at Salmeo who scowled in his direction. Tariq smiled back. He knew how much the Grand Master Eunuch would resent the Zar’s overturning of Shaz’s punishment. It would leave a loose thread for the eunuch to tie off later.

‘My people have chosen to spare Shaz the Apprentice,’ Boaz called, working hard at not showing his delight.

The crowd below were not so circumspect and the roar of approval was deafening. Shaz himself
looked confused, unable to believe that he had cheated death as it knocked so loudly against his door. He looked at Horz who nodded, a soft and sad smile about his lips as he silently congratulated the lad on his reprieve. Then the rough hands of the executioner’s aides were pushing Shaz back through a gate and into the Moon Courtyard. There he began hugging every soldier, every servant, even one of the executioner’s team. Then he saw a familiar face in the distance—it was Teril, one of the youngest apprentices of the Inflictors—and waved, too ecstatic to speak. The lad returned the gesture; he would see Shaz soon enough but he had a task to fulfil first.

He looked away from Shaz and up to the top of the wall where Pez was doing one of his famous jigs.

‘Hey, boy, you’re not allowed here! Our Zar is up there,’ a soldier said, approaching hurriedly. ‘You’ll get yourself knifed for less.’

‘I have a special note for the dwarf,’ the lad mumbled. ‘It’s important.’

The man laughed. ‘What? And you think the fool can read it?’

The youngster looked suddenly uncertain. ‘No. I just promised one of the priests that I’d get it to him. I don’t care if he understands it or not.’ The lie about the priest came easily.

‘Let me see it,’ the man said, slightly chagrined now at the mention of one of Zarab’s holy men.

‘No, sir. I cannot,’ the boy said. ‘I cannot do that. This is a private note between the priest
and the dwarf.’ Then he hurriedly moved on from his lie. ‘I am wearing my palace uniform, you can see I am allowed to be in its grounds.’

‘Show me your mark,’ the man said, not fully suspicious but, with the Zar thirty feet above them, he knew not to take any chances.

The lad rolled back the loose sleeve of his shirt to reveal the special branding that all palace servants were forced to endure when first accepted onto the staff. The man nodded. ‘Who is your direct superior?’

‘Rah,’ the boy answered. ‘I am returning to him now once I pass on the note. You can watch me.’

‘I cannot let you go up there and you may not remain here.’

‘Will you let me win his attention at least and if he is prepared to accept the note he can signal that to both of us?’

‘The dwarf wouldn’t have a clue—’

‘I know, sir. But I gave my oath.’

‘All right,’ the man said, feeling a bit sorry for the lad. He had a son of similar age and understood how important it was to instil a sense of duty into boys of this age. The lad was only trying to see a task to its proper end. Furthermore, all the soldiers were happy to hear of Shaz cheating death; none believed he’d had any part in the downfall of their Spur. It couldn’t hurt to show a bit of the same generosity of spirit that their own Zar was promoting. ‘Go on then, see if you can win his attention, although I’ll have to search you.’