"Yes," Nanda breathed. "Just like him."
Shah noticed the glare he was being given. "Forgive my rudeness, please. It is only that you look very much like a member of my harem. Your eyes are quite unique."
Shihab stared a moment, then threw his head back and laughed. "I never noticed before, Isra, but he's right. I must be blind. Your eyes are much like Witcher's."
"I don't care," Isra snapped.
Chuckling, Shah motioned to Shihab. "Introduce me to your friends, before I lose my manners entirely." He bowed his head to the one called Isra. "Truly, I am sorry. You took me by surprise."
Isra shrugged. "It is no matter, Majesty."
"Majesty, may I present to you the Ghost Sheik, Sahayl son of Hashim, son of the Lady of the Sands." Shihab bowed low, motioning towards a man who gave a definite impression of leadership.
Shah nodded to him, masking his curiosity. The man was handsome, his hair a mess of thick, tight curls. There was a solemnity about him, one that Shah knew well - that of a man used to the burden of responsibility, of duty. He looked around thirty years in age - neither young nor old - but his eyes held shadows that belonged to a much older man.
"Sheik?" Ikram repeated. He looked at Sahayl in surprise. "What of Hashim?"
"Killed by Jackal several days ago," Sahayl said quietly, and only force of habit kept a concerned frown from Shah's face. He had not seen eyes that tortured in a long while. "I would have been killed as well, for their plan of attack was to eliminate the Sheik and Amir at all cost, but I was not in camp at the time. He died fighting."
Ikram nodded. "May the Lady ease your sorrow, Ghost Sheik."
Sahayl nodded. "I thank you."
Shah added several more questions to his growing list, and glanced at Ikram briefly, silently informing the man that he would be answering every last one of them. Ikram acknowledged the unspoken command with a slight nod. "Who else have we here?"
"Isra, son of Falcon, son of the Lady of the Sands," Shihab said, wrapping a hand around Isra's arm and jerking him closer. "Though he also goes by the name 'desert rose'."
"I will kill you," Isra said. "Don't think the presence of a King will stop me."
"Never would I be so foolish as to think that, brother of my soul," Shihab said with a grin. He let go of Isra and moved to the last man, bowing low.
If anyone came close to the term savage, Shah supposed it was this man, though he didn't look wild so much as like a thoroughbred soldier.
"Bahadur, son Galal, former son of Jackal, son of the Lady of the Sands."
"A pleasure to meet you all," Shahjahan said as he stood up to honor them properly.
"Tavamara welcomes hundreds of thousands of foreigners a day, yet seldom do we see our neighbors of the Desert. I cannot recall when last we had three gathered in one place." His lips twitched briefly. "Perhaps I should say four. You look quiet comfortable among them, Shihab."
"Only until his mother gets a hold of him." Ikram laughed as his son grimaced.
Shah chuckled. "What brings you to Tavamara? You look as though you have traveled hard, and if you are in the company of Shihab I think it safe to guess you are not here to visit."
"No, Majesty," Sahayl said, speaking slowly, and despite his calm Shah could see he was nervous - as was the other one, Bahadur. Isra did not look nearly as discomfited as the other two. "We come with news of a western invasion upon the Desert." He locked eyes with Shah, who stared intently back. "I have come to ask for your help, for the Desert has no experience with wars outside its own."
Sitting back down, Shah drummed his fingers along the arms of his seat as he gathered his thoughts. "I am surprised, I will admit. We have suspected for some time that the west was somehow making use of the Desert. They have all but abandoned their usual posts and forts in the mountains and along the coast, and have been nothing but polite in the missives regularly exchanged. Yet I have found evidence of treachery in my court, and our connections in the Desert-" he looked from Ikram to Sahayl. "Fell silent. There have been other indications. We sent Shihab to investigate, and to gather vital information should the time come when we had to venture into the Desert to protect Tavamara." He tilted his head, staring thoughtfully at Sahayl. "I had not expected the Desert to come asking for help."
"Most Tribes will be against my decision," Sahayl said somberly, "but far too many are being slaughtered. Others have turned against the Lady. The Tribes have always kept to themselves and we prefer to keep it that way. If I must ask one nation to help us fight against another to reclaim the Desert, I will do so." Sahayl shook his head, and his dark eyes were hard as he met Shah's gaze. "But I won't lose the Desert to you either."
Shah nodded, waving the words away. "I already have more than enough country to manage. The Desert is a vast space between me and my enemies. To make an enemy of you would be a foolish thing indeed. Tavamara would gladly offer its assistance to the Desert, Ghost Sheik." He stroked his beard. "Now, perhaps we should start at the beginning?" He turned to Nanda. "Tell my Lady Queen I will not be able to dine at the banquet tonight. I'm sure she'll delight in the opportunity to tell humiliating stories about me."
Shah grinned briefly. "Have my private dining room prepared for all present here, as well as you and the others."
Nanda stood and bowed, lifting Shah's hand to kiss the back of it. "Of course, my King." He turned and strode from the room to see to matters. He paused in the doorway. "I will have rooms prepared."
"Thank you, Nanda." Shah watched him depart, then turned to the waiting men. "Now, if you are willing and able, let us start at the beginning. Nothing said here leaves this room, unless I give leave to speak of it elsewhere. As I already mentioned, there are traitors within my palace."
Sahayl looked at him thoughtfully. "How do you know none of us intend you harm?"
"Shihab trusts you implicitly, I can see. Ikram calls you friend. I know enough from what Ikram has told me to know that it is strange a Ghost and Falcon would travel together as comrades, and despite the fact that your father was killed by a Jackal you permit Bahadur to stand not just with you but behind you. A strange combination of allies. I tend to trust strange things."
"As well as criminals and enemies," Ikram groused.
Shah quirked an eyebrow at his advisor. "You are a member of my council now?"
"Lady spare me that torture," Ikram replied with a grimace. "I merely am pointing out known fact, Majesty. You are less than orthodox in all things."
Shah threw his head back and laughed. "Less than orthodox, yes. Which means the plan I am forming will come as no surprise to anyone."
"Whatever it is, and it had better not be what I suspect it is, Majesty, for you will never get it past the council."
"The council will do as I bid," Shah said, voice hardening, "or I will have them all removed as traitors and thrown into prison. They assist me in the governing of this country, they do not dictate my actions." He sat back in his chair and forced himself to relax. "Besides, Ikram, it is the perfect chance to finally deduce who exactly are the rats among us. Ostensibly, they have no reason to disagree with my plan. It would only benefit Tavamara. Those that disagree risk themselves by admitting so. If we watch them carefully, we will have our traitors."
Ikram sighed. "It will not be that easy. Your plan is madness. This impulsiveness of yours will someday backfire." He looked briefly at Sahayl. "You know nothing. Not enough to make such a decision"
Shah mimicked the sigh and shared a conspiratorial smile with his confused guests. "You four look exhausted, and I have no doubt Shihab's mother is threatening the lives of my guards this very moment. By now rooms would have been made ready. Rest awhile, we can continue our discussion tonight over dinner. What you have to tell me can wait that long." He frowned briefly. "Ikram, have extra guards placed. Inform everyone that court is finished for the day."
"Yes, Majesty." Grumbling beneath his breath about impulsive Kings and headaches, Ikram led the group from the court room.
The door closed behind them and Shah stood, stretching with a groan and stifling a yawn.
Silk whispered as the drapes behind him shifted, and Shah smiled even as fingers landed lightly on his hips, traced lightly up his side before strong arms wrapped around his waist.
Teeth nipped lightly at his throat, a warm voice chuckling in his ear. "You would have made a fine pirate, Shah."
"I doubt it," Shah said dryly. "The closest I get to water these days is my bath."
"Always a fine place to be," the man murmured as he turned Shah around and kissed him hard, almost aggressively, the only man to be so with his King. "A pity we can't go there now."
Shah chuckled. "Missing the waves, Beynum my pirate?"
"Something," Bey said with a grin. "Nanda ordered me to accompany you back to our rooms.
I would have come anyway, of course, but Nanda is Nanda…"
Chuckling again, Shah leaned up to give Bey another kiss, then led the way from the court room, slipping through the drapes behind the throne to private passageways beyond it - built exclusively for royal use. Not even the guards were permitted this way; save a precious few, none even knew about them.
The passageway split eventually and Shah took the rightmost path, and several turns later the dark maze spilled into a vast, sunlight room. At the far end was a large bed, set low on the floor and smothered with pillows and blankets. In the center of the room was a large, wide carpet, a table off to one side and surrounded by a wealth of large cushions. More cushions and pillows were scattered around the edge of the carpet, leaving the center clear.
At the table sat two men - a man with shoulder length hair and dark skin, and his whole body shook as he laughed. Across from him sat a man with white skin and gold hair, hands moving avidly in the air as he said something which won a new burst of laughter from his companion.
In the bed, a slender figure curled up amongst the pillows, idly flipping through a book, sunlight catching the gold edging the pages. He looked several years younger than the other men in the room, and his cheeks were flushed dark as he read.
"Shah," Nanda said softly, coming into the large bedroom from the main door, holding a tray of food and wine. "I conveyed all your wishes. The Lady Queen bid me tell you that vengeance will be had, for leaving her alone with the visiting Petchens."
"Ah, yes. The arrival of the savages drove the Petchens from my mind." Shah said with a wince. "Remind me to send my wife an apology."
Nanda smirked. "She said a new orchid would be a good start."
"Of course," Shah murmured, smiling and shaking his head. His smile turned into a full fledged grin as the man on the bed shyly approached. "Kiah, my beauty. Whatever were you reading?" He cupped the young man's face and tilted it up for a kiss. "It looked interesting."
"Umm," Kiah said, dusky skin flushing as he shifted nervously in Shah's arms. "Something Bey gave me."
Witcher chuckled from where he sat across from Aik. "Really, Bey," he said in a mock reproving tone. "Stop overwhelming the poor colt."
"He didn't look like he was suffering," Bey said with a grin, swooping in and scooping Kiah up, carrying the protesting younger man back to the bed and dumping him unceremoniously into it. "Wait until I make him read it aloud."
Kiah let out a soft squeak of panic at the thought.
Nanda rolled his eyes. "How did the meeting progress, Shah?" he asked as he urged Shah to sit amongst a pile of cushions, setting the tray down and pouring a pale, gold wine into a shallow drinking dish.
Shah sipped it gratefully. "We didn't get very far. They were tired, I hated to push them.
Whatever news they bring has kept this long, it can wait a few hours more." He pinched the bridge of his nose and relaxed into Nanda's soothing touch, one hand reaching out to stroke his long hair. "An intriguing group, especially the Sheik. He had a strange look in his eyes."
"What do you know of his father?" Nanda asked.
Shah frowned as he thought. "Not much. Ikram says only what he must. He knew the man, was trusted enough to tutor the current Sheik as a child. I can ask Ikram more, tonight or tomorrow." He stroked Nanda's cheek. "Why do you ask?"
Nanda turned his head to kiss Shah's palm. "Because when my family died, I felt awful - not simply because they were dead, but because on some level I was relieved they were dead.
He had the same look about him…and I would hazard to say he has nowhere to go with his grief."
"I see," Shah said softly. "That explains much of what I saw in him."
"What are you plotting, Shah?" Aik asked curiously, looking up after he'd poured more of a dark, amber liquid for himself and Witcher. "Because we can see you're plotting something."
"When isn't he?" Witcher asked, sipping his wine and smiling fondly at Shah.
Shah smiled back and relaxed against the pillows, stroking up and down Nanda's spine as the man curled up against him, relishing the brief two hours he would have with his men before he was called away to be King again. "Thoughts, my witch?"
Witcher set his wine down and folded his arms on the table, leaning slightly forward as he thought. "You've been planning to move forces into the Desert for some time now, if worst came to worst. Now, quite unexpectedly, the Desert has asked you for help. That changes the game quite a bit." His sky blue eyes grew distant as he continued, and it was easy to see how the quiet, compliant man had once been a fierce commander. "The easiest solution would be to have a son marry a daughter of a prominent Sheik. But your sons are children.
"Marching in by force would lose you all that you've suddenly gained, so the best solution still is a peaceful alliance. If not a son to marry off, a daughter. But your daughter is a babe. So ostensibly a family relation is out of the question…"
Aik let out a sharp bark of laughter from across the small table. "I think I see where this is going. Very clever, Shah." He smiled at his King. "But how will you get it past the council?"