Emissary (16 page)

‘May I wash your hair for you?’ he asked Ana.

‘Thank you, Kett,’ she murmured. ‘You look so strong,’ she remarked, noticing his sculpted body as he helped her up and led her to a separate pool.

He gave a soft sigh. ‘I always wanted to be a warrior and the Elim have taught me that I am one, even though…’ his voice trailed off.

Ana felt his pain and filled the awkward moment with light conversation. ‘So you’ve been training hard?’

He nodded, although she couldn’t see this as he stood behind her lathering up her hair. ‘Yes, I have almost completed my Elim training. I will be given my full-time role soon. I hope it’s to protect you.’

She found a smile. ‘What do I need protection from?’

He shrugged. ‘Who knows? I shall do whatever is asked—I belong to the harem.’

‘Just as I do,’ she reassured, hoping to alleviate the wistfulness he clearly couldn’t shake. ‘We are kindred spirits, Kett.’

Kett worked in silence for several minutes, carefully soaping up Ana’s hair with a mix of suds and egg yolk to make it shine, before rinsing it, then beginning again, each time massaging her scalp until it tingled.

‘It’s a shame to waste all those egg whites,’ she commented sarcastically.

He giggled, whispering, ‘When you’re older we use them to smear around your eyes to help with wrinkles but for now I’m sure we can send them off to the Valide.’

They both shared a conspiratorial laugh.

‘Are you scared, Miss Ana?’ he dared.

‘Yes,’ she replied candidly. ‘But, like you, others decide my fate for me.’

She heard him pause before he replied. ‘It need not be that way,’ he said, tipping a bucket of clean, cooler water over her head.

‘What do you mean?’

He came around to face her, looking abashed, as if angry with himself for saying what he did. ‘Now we must wash your body,’ Kett said, his eyes glancing away from hers.

Ana turned to see Elza approaching.

‘Come, Odalisque Ana, Kett will now soap your body.’

Ana felt instantly coy. ‘Can I not do it, Elza?’

The senior attendant laughed, her bare breasts over the top of her loose pants wobbling with the mirth. ‘You have to get used to the touch of a man, although Kett here is hardly that.’ She laughed again but not unkindly. ‘You must also get used to this routine. If not him, then another of the youngest eunuchs will attend to your bathing.’

‘Why not you?’ Ana persisted.

‘I am senior, Miss Ana,’ Elza said archly, ‘I have more important roles.’

Ana felt sorry for the woman. They were both slaves, both prisoners of the harem. The only thing that separated them was age and desirability in terms of the Zar’s needs, and yet here was Elza trying to take solace from the fact that her slaving duties were considered more important than Kett’s, but not as important as Ana’s perhaps. She sighed to herself. Status existed everywhere, even amongst the downtrodden.

They sat Ana down on a stool near a fountain of running water.

‘Just let him do what he must,’ Elza said. ‘Get used to it. He’s been practising. He knows what to do for you.’

Ana didn’t want to make trouble for Kett. She looked towards his downcast gaze and knew he
felt as awkward about this as she did. Neither had a choice once again. Elza had already left them, although she was not far away and would supervise, presumably.

‘It’s not your fault, Kett,’ Ana assured. ‘I suppose we’d better get over the discomfort of our situation and get on with it.’

He looked up and she knew he fought his treacherous eyes and their gaze that moved unhappily towards her breasts. It was not his fault. He could not help it, no matter how much he protested that they had taken everything from him that made him a man. And she liked Kett—had always somehow felt responsible for his sorrowful situation, even though she knew in her heart that her circumstances that night had been equally helpless.

Ana reassured herself that Kett would get used to the sight of her body and she would get used to his ministrations. They just had to overcome this initial delicate beginning.

‘Right,’ she said brightly. ‘Do I need to do anything?’

‘No, Miss Ana,’ Kett said, snapping his attention back to his duty.

He reached for a soft sea sponge and dipped it into some perfumed suds in a bucket and then gently lifted Ana’s slim, long arm, proceeding to soap it from fingertip to shoulder. She had to admit it felt good and before long she relieved Kett’s embarrassment and her own by closing
her eyes and losing herself as best she could in her own thoughts. It was the invigorating surprise of being doused with cool water that brought her out of her musings on reaching Pez through some form of magical link.

A voice cut through her thoughts. ‘Come, Odalisque Ana, now for the massage.’

Ana had never experienced the massage, apparently unique to the Percherese, but she had heard plenty about it this past year in her training.

‘You must lie on the marble floor over here,’ Elza said, pointing to a large raised area. Ana noticed holes in the marble through which fizzed warm water. She couldn’t imagine how that happened and she wasn’t given time to consider the ingenuity of the men who had designed this system.

Ana dutifully lay down, no longer bothered by her nakedness in front of Kett, his black skin gleaming from his exertions and a contrast to the bright red loincloth of the Elim that hooked around his waist and saved her the sight of his wound.

‘Kett has strong fingers,’ Elza said. ‘He will make your body feel loose and pliant.’

The water bubbling through the holes made the marble slippery and Kett was able to spin Ana into any position he needed. At first she laughed when he took her leg and pulled her around so he could work on her shoulders first.
‘Behave,’ Elza warned, frightened that Salmeo or worse, the Valide, might choose this moment to enter the pavilion and take umbrage that everyone was having too much fun over a serious process.

‘I was told the women use this time to entertain one another, Elza.’

‘This is different, Odalisque Ana. There is no-one here but ourselves and this is no ordinary day of bathing,’ she reminded, her expression stern, hiding her fear.

Ana fell silent, knowing it wasn’t worth the breath arguing the point with Elza who had no power, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that her role had real status in the harem. She watched the slave walk away as Kett dragged her into the middle of the marble where it was hotter. She sighed as the heat melted through her body and his fingers busily worked down her back now.

‘What did you mean earlier?’ she said softly.

‘Pardon, Miss Ana?’

‘You suggested that others need not decide my fate.’

Kett didn’t answer immediately, although she felt his telltale pause from his massaging, then he resumed, harder now. ‘I spoke out of turn, Miss Ana,’ he finally said.

‘She’s not here, Kett. Tell me what you meant.’ Ana could sense him checking for Elza’s whereabouts. ‘Please.’

He spun her around again and this time knelt close to her head as he pretended to work on her neck and shoulders. He whispered, ‘I overheard Salmeo organising for the bundle women to come up tonight. It’s a treat for the girls.’

‘Another one. We are spoilt,’ Ana commented tartly.

‘I think he said the Valide wanted to add something to their day so she can share in their fun.’

‘Doesn’t sound like the Valide.’

He hissed softly to stop her saying anything too harsh. ‘Be careful, Miss Ana.’

‘Why? The Zar wants my body, they can hardly hurt me.’

‘They can afterwards,’ he counselled and Ana knew he was right to caution her.

‘Go on,’ she urged.

‘It’s just that I know one of the women. She can be bribed.’

Both fell silent as the implications of this hung between them.

Ana broke the tension, her breathing suddenly shallow. ‘How well do you know her?’

‘Not well. I’ve got to know her through my work for the harem. Salmeo uses me for errands and I come across her from time to time. I know she is corrupt. I know she can be bought.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Sheffa. She usually brings the cheap shawls.’

‘Can word be got to her?’

‘Possibly, I don’t know.’

Ana could hear the pain in his voice and she spun herself around now. They both looked for Elza before she said more. ‘You did the right thing in telling me, Kett,’ she assured. ‘Can you get word to her? Please, I’m begging you. Tell her I will give her something of immense value tonight if she will carry me out.’

Kett looked forlorn, terrified. ‘I wish I’d never mentioned—’

‘But you did. And I haven’t forgotten it since that day on the terraces when you first shared the tale of the odalisque who escaped in the bundle woman’s wares, and I know you told me because you want me to escape.’

‘I can’t bear the thought of you going to the Zar unwillingly,’ he said, skirting the whole truth.

‘Neither can I. But escape is my risk alone. I’m prepared to take it. How can we contact her?’

‘I can probably do it myself. I’m frightened though, Miss Ana. I wish I had not put this idea into your mind. It is wrong of me but no-one understands better how it feels to be trapped. I can’t escape but perhaps you can.’ He was babbling, torn between her safety and his desire to free her from the Zar’s claim.

‘Do it, Kett. But keep yourself safe. The danger must be mine alone.’

Elza was back and they both quietened. ‘I take over from here now, Miss Ana.’

‘What’s next?’ Ana asked too brightly, covering their sudden hush in conversation.

Her new enthusiasm was noticed by the slave. ‘You seem very alert.’

‘That’s not a bad thing, is it? I found the waters refreshing,’ Ana replied, feeling the excitement and tension of her embryonic escape plan shaping.

‘No, but the waters are meant to relax, not make you too jumpy.’

‘I’m not jumpy, Elza.’

‘Well, don’t try and convince me you’re excited,’ she said, a hint of sarcasm icing her words.

Elza knew her too well. ‘I just want to get it all over and done with, to be honest.’

‘That’s fair enough too, Miss Ana. I understand. Next we have to remove your body hair.’

Ana stared at her. She had heard that high-born females and those who married above themselves strived to keep their bodies free of all hair, save what flowed from their head. Her stepmother had scoffed at the notion, claiming it was an idle pastime for idle women. No-one Ana had ever met had the time or inclination to follow this practice.

‘Now don’t look at me like that, Miss Ana. This is the way of the harem.’

‘How is it done?’

‘A paste,’ the woman replied simply. ‘Come and lie here on these warmed towels.’

Ana did as she was told, watching somewhat fascinated as Elza lifted the lid on one of her many pots before beginning to smear the pungent paste onto Ana’s shins first.

‘Quicklime and orpiment—crystals of arsenic,’ the woman explained as she worked deftly with her spatula. As she finished attending to the second leg with the paste, she reached for a small grey implement.

‘What’s that?’ Ana said, sitting up.

‘A mussel shell that’s been sharpened. Watch,’ Elza said, as she used the fine edge of the shell like a razor to lift away the paste and with it the soft golden hair on Ana’s legs. She repeated the process on Ana’s arms and underarms, and then removed the modesty sheet covering her middle. ‘Now for the important bit,’ she said, grinning and slapping Ana’s thigh, ‘so our young stallion can see you in all your glory.’

Ana groaned, couldn’t bear to watch any longer and laid back as she felt the paste stinging between her legs.

‘We cannot leave this on for too long or the arsenic will corrode your flesh.’

‘It’s burning me now.’

‘It will,’ Elza said matter-of-factly. ‘I must use it on all the orifices, Miss Ana, nose, ears…’

‘Say no more,’ Ana warned, cutting off wherever next Elza was going to list and feeling sickened as she felt the slave turn her over and push her legs apart once again.

‘On your knees, girl, make it easier for me.’

Ana felt her eyes water with the humiliation of this activity. She thought of her father and his simple life, simple needs. She thought of her brother and sisters and how she would give anything to be living with them again, and she thought of the statue of Lyana, whom Pez believed Ana now represented. And then she considered this pampered prisoner life she was now being committed to and her mind snapped itself into the stony decision. Escape, be it out of Percheron or by death, was her only option. She would take her chance tonight, no matter what happened.

When Elza was satisfied, after an embarrassingly long and close scrutiny, that Ana was free of all superfluous hair, she pulled on a small rough hessian bag over each hand.

‘Now what?’ Ana asked testily.

‘I must polish your body. Turn over and be quiet, child.’

Elza began to rub every inch of her charge with the rough bags whilst Kett scrubbed the soles of Ana’s feet with rasps. Ana no longer found any of it diverting. The humiliation she still felt fired her imagination further, revelling in the notion that she could cheat Salmeo and Herezah. She didn’t enjoy the idea of snubbing Boaz, who had in all truth been nothing but a friend to her, but even that relationship had this dark side to it, where she was expected to give her body for his use.

She remembered Lazar’s voice, coming through Pez, and it made her feel hot where she shouldn’t and this angered her even more. She would show them all. Ana had no proof that Lazar was alive and she had not yet seen Pez to confront him, but her ears had surely not deceived her. That was the voice with which she had comforted herself this past year, by playing over and again in her head memories of conversation with Lazar. But she had not imagined it. It was Lazar who spoke, and it would explain Pez’s hasty closing of their link.

She flicked her hair angrily. ‘Are we finished?’

Elza had finished, apparently, because she told Kett to bathe Ana again before she was to be oiled.

Ana grimaced but said nothing, dutifully obeying the woman who was in charge of her preparation. After another dip in the heated waters, Kett smoothed warmed perfumed oil from her neck to the tips of her toes, rubbing it in gently.