Odalisque (11 page)

‘Is this who was snooping?’ Herezah demanded.

‘We caught him in one the corridors behind this chamber, Valide Zara,’ one of the Elim answered. He bowed and Kett was dropped between them. He kept his head lowered.

Herezah looked to Salmeo who moved, his huge bulk surprisingly light of tread, over to the cringing boy.

‘Look at me,’ he commanded and there was no mistaking the power of this man. ‘What were you doing in the corridor in a restricted area?’

‘Grand Master Eunuch, I was lost,’ Kett said, and it sounded pitiful. ‘I was hurrying about my duties, I took the wrong entrance—I’m so sorry, sir—I found myself on the other side of the room and knew I shouldn’t be there and I became too frightened to move or make a sound.’

‘You weren’t very successful, were you?’ Tariq piped up. He looked around, waiting for someone to snicker at his sarcastic jest.

‘Forgive me, Grand Master. I tried so hard to stifle my sneeze but that only made it worse.’

Lazar grimaced. He sensed it would get ugly for this child. Salmeo was too cruel to let such an insult to his authority pass, particularly such a public one. He glanced behind him to Ana. She was still in the chamber; her minders had not had the opportunity to leave since the interruption.

Ana returned the look, her expression fearful.

‘What is your name, boy?’

‘I am Kett, Grand Master Eunuch. I run errands for some of your men, although I hope to join the palace guard when I reach a suitable age. I am the son of Shelah Mohab.’ He hoped the mentioning of his mother’s name might help his perilous situation.

‘Shelah?’ Herezah enquired. ‘My old servant?’ She stood beside Salmeo in front of the boy.

Kett bowed low again on his knees, his head touching the pale marble floor. ‘Valide,’ he whispered. ‘Yes, you were her mistress.’

‘I see.’ Herezah glanced at Salmeo.

Not to be outdone, the Vizier sidled up beside the Valide and the Grand Master Eunuch. ‘The penalty is death, surely?’

Salmeo turned to address Herezah, although everyone could hear him. ‘The Vizier speaks true. It is death to anyone unauthorised who sees the girls of the harem. Guards!’

Lazar could not permit this. ‘Valide, if I may be
permitted?’ He even bowed. Whatever pleased her, this boy’s life must not be taken.

‘What is it, Spur?’ she said, feigning irritation.

‘Thank you, Valide Zara. I don’t believe this boy’s life should be forfeit.’

‘How dare you!’ the Vizier began.

‘Why do you say that, Lazar?’ Herezah said from behind her veil. A laziness to the tone. He knew it well—it was seductive and dangerous.

‘This boy—and let’s not forget that this is all he is—is innocent of anything sinister, Valide. He has told you that he was lost and it would be generous of you to spare his life.’

Lazar could see the Vizier fuming visibly; Salmeo, as angry, was not nearly so obvious. The lids of his eyes had closed slightly, shading the windows into his thoughts.

‘He must be punished,’ the eunuch said softly.

‘And I agree,’ Herezah added. ‘Innocent of intent or otherwise, this boy was where he knew he must not be. It is forbidden.’

‘But, Valide, he did not realise until it was too late that he was somewhere he shouldn’t be. He is a child. If he were a man I would agree he should know better. If he must be punished, so be it, but not death. If I may be so bold, perhaps you might start your son’s reign with a show of mercy, Valide. The palace will learn soon enough of your magnanimous gesture.’

He was daring her into doing something generous which her two sidekicks would abhor.
They used their positions as a club with which to beat their subordinates into submission. Herezah was no stranger to this concept either, but he was counting on her vanity to win out. He held his breath as she watched him intently.

It was at this moment that someone else joined the debate; someone so unexpected that it made Lazar draw in his breath sharply. The situation he had almost won had turned suddenly, exquisitely, dangerous.

‘Valide, High One,’ Ana said, sliding in on her knees next to Kett, head bowed to the ground, her creamy back exposed through the transparent sheath.

Salmeo signalled angrily to the eunuchs who had allowed her to escape their care.

Herezah smiled and there was a slyness to it. ‘No, wait. Let’s hear what this girl has to say. Ana?’

‘Spare him his life, Majesty,’ she said, using all the wrong terminology to address Herezah, not that it offended the woman who gloated above her. She was not looking at Ana of course, but watching the Spur of Percheron who stared at the prone figure beneath him, aghast.

‘Why should I, Ana?’ she continued.

‘Because you can. You are all-powerful, Valide, and because, High One, I will exchange something precious for Kett’s life.’

At this Herezah gave a tinkling, affected laugh. ‘Oh my dear, what can you possibly have that I would want?’

‘My freedom, Valide Zara. I relinquish all of it. If I pass the Test of Virtue, I will give up the condition my mother placed upon the Spur. I will remain in the palace for—’

‘No!’ Lazar interrupted, unable to help himself. It had taken all of his wits to negotiate the release of Ana into his care and she was casting that freedom to the wind. He admired her courage in placing herself at the mercy of people who could order her death too, for nothing more than insubordination. But his despair was a selfish one. He wanted to see Ana again, not see her absorbed into the harem so fully he might never hear the musical lilt in her voice or watch her beauty settle into full womanhood. ‘This cannot be permitted, Valide.’

‘Why not?’ She was relishing every moment of his discomfort. ‘Ana makes a gracious plea for Kett. Surely you admire it?’

There was little he could say to that. ‘I made a promise,’ he said helplessly.

‘And you saw it through to its conclusion. I had already decided to grant Ana the condition you argued for so eloquently. It is Ana’s freedom and so it is hers to give back to me if she so wishes.’

He had not hated Herezah so much in all the time he’d known her as he did at this moment. Clever Herezah had seen through his guise. She knew how to read men and she had read him like an open page. She could tell that he wanted Ana,
and no matter how noble his intentions were, she intended to deny him. And why, he asked himself. Because he would not give himself willingly to her. He would give his time and affection to a girl, but not to her and so Herezah had found a new way to punish him.

Young Ana could not appreciate all of these undercurrents swirling around her. She asked her innocent question. ‘Will you spare his life, then, Valide Zara?’

‘Yes. I will take the precious exchange you offer, Ana,’ the Valide said, loading the word ‘precious’ with sarcasm. ‘This boy will not be executed,’ Herezah added, to the audible disappointment of the Vizier and the relief of all the others who were audience to this theatre. Salmeo was unreadable.

‘He will of course be punished,’ Herezah said and Lazar heard the viciousness in her voice.

She addressed the boy now, who was still bent in obeisance. ‘Kett.’

‘Yes, Valide Zara?’

‘Ana here has bought your life with her own freedom. You will not be executed as protocol calls but I fear you must now join the very place you have trespassed upon.’

Kett looked at her, confused.

Salmeo understood, however. ‘Call the priests,’ he said to his guard.

‘Valide,’ Lazar started.

‘Enough, Spur. We have indulged you. Please step back,’ she said and the Vizier gave a
triumphant glare at Lazar, who had no choice but to do as he was ordered.

‘This will not take long, brothers,’ Salmeo assured.

‘I am going to ask you to step outside for a short while,’ Herezah warned those gathered. She glanced Lazar’s way and he knew she was smiling beneath the veil.

‘Quick, we must leave now,’ Pez urged.

‘Wait, what will happen to Kett?’

‘You heard. He is to be punished. Let’s go.’

‘Shouldn’t we stay?’

‘It won’t be pretty,’ Pez said. ‘Trust me, you don’t want to witness it.’

Boaz followed his friend, his mind in confusion. ‘Aren’t there guards?’

‘They’ve gone to fetch the priests. I know a way we can get out if all the corridors are not heavily watched. Hold my hand.’

‘Why?’

‘Do it!’

Boaz assumed that they were fortunate and that the excitement of the proceedings had made some of the guards sloppy enough not to notice them. Pez knew otherwise. He guided them expertly through various twisting walkways until Boaz found himself coming out by the Lion Fountain.

‘Here? How?’

‘I told you, I know my way around. Now come, we are still in danger.’

They arrived breathlessly back at the Zar’s quarters, Pez affecting a wild laugh and somersaulting down the main hallway to Boaz’s huge doors. The two Elim bowed to their Zar and then laughed. They knew the lad well enough to share a joke with him.

‘Where does he get the energy?’ one asked.

Boaz shrugged and pushed the dwarf into the main chamber.

Inside, the Zar ignored protocol and, with difficulty due to his injured arm, poured them both a goblet of wine. He handed it to his friend with a shaky hand. ‘Now, tell me.’ Boaz sipped his wine to calm his frayed nerves and rising temper.

The little man sighed and all amusement died in his eyes. ‘It’s called shepherding.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I can, temporarily at least, block people.’

‘Block them?’ Boaz frowned.

‘You know,’ Pez said awkwardly, ‘steer them away—you could say—as the shepherd steers his sheep.’

‘You mean, stop them seeing you?’

The dwarf nodded. ‘Not for long.’

Boaz suddenly understood. ‘You have the Lore?’ His tone was leaden with fright.

Again Pez nodded, his expression grave. This was not something he had wished to reveal.

‘And do you use it often?’

‘No. I have little need for it.’

‘So what are you? Some sort of sorcerer?’ Boaz asked, aghast.

‘No. I possess such a tiny sense, I wield no real power.’ He crafted a lie now. It was necessary. ‘A throwback from my great-grandmother who was sentient. For the most part she kept her power a secret.’ He watched Boaz’s eyes widen at the discovery of this knowledge—all a lie, of course. ‘It’s nothing, Boaz. I have only a touch. Something only slightly more impressive than my silly tricks.’

‘Why have you not mentioned it to me before?’

Pez shrugged. ‘It didn’t seem important—as I said, I haven’t used it since I came here. I’m the Zar’s idiot. It wouldn’t do to be casting spells.’

‘What is the extent of your magic?’ the boy persisted.

‘That’s it,’ Pez replied diffidently. ‘I can shepherd and that takes so much out of me I usually need to sleep for a whole day. In fact I feel quite ill now.’ He blinked slowly. ‘I couldn’t risk you being found there or I would never have used it.’

The boy continued to watch him with new curiosity. ‘I shall have to think on what you’ve told me.’

‘Our secret?’

‘I have no reason to reveal you, Pez. You’re my friend, aren’t you?’

‘I am. More than you can know.’

The Zar was suddenly apprehensive. ‘Why did they call for the priests?’

‘There is to be a ceremony.’

‘Oh? I didn’t understand what my mother meant by welcoming him to the place he had trespassed upon.’

‘She is formally making him a member of the harem, Zar,’ Pez replied.

Boaz considered this. ‘But how can she when he’s…’ His face drained of colour. ‘He’s to become a eunuch?’

Pez nodded. ‘She will be taking his manhood as we speak.’

Kett, in his fear and confusion, seemed to be the last person in the chamber to understand what was about to happen. Even Ana had grasped what was unfolding and tried to squirm away through the legs of her captors.

Herezah was having none of it. ‘She must bear witness. It was she whose body he watched. She who has caused his downfall, you could say.’

‘Valide, I really must object,’ Lazar began but he was cut off again, this time aggressively.

‘Don’t ever object to me, Spur. Remember your place. The girl will bear witness, as will you.’

Salmeo whispered something to her and she nodded.

‘Guards, please show our guests into the chamber across the hall. In there is a courtyard—you can take some fresh air and we shall serve refreshments. We shall not keep you long.’

Muttered whispers of concern, confusion and relief broke out amongst the guests.

Salmeo took over. ‘Elim, the Spur and the girl are to remain. Vizier, my humblest apologies, but I must ask you to leave also.’

The Vizier swelled like a rooster about to unleash a tirade of protestations when Herezah used her quiet voice to still him. ‘Thank you, Tariq, I know how careful you are to observe the traditions of the harem. Perhaps you can keep our guests entertained on my behalf. We shan’t be long.’

The stooped thin man pursed his lips and had no choice but to take what was clearly an order in the same gracious manner in which she had delivered it.

The priest arrived with a trio of helpers in tow. He’d obviously been informed of what must occur for he carried a small velvet roll and they carried towels, pails of steaming water and various other instruments of their ritual.

They bowed to Herezah. ‘Valide Zara,’ the priest said and she nodded. He turned immediately to Salmeo. ‘Grand Master Eunuch, this is most unusual.’ There was a slight waver of worry in his voice.

Salmeo gave a gesture of helplessness. ‘These are unusual circumstances.’ They both looked down at the trembling Kett. An assistant, known as a knifer, was lighting small wax candles and placing them in a crescent around the boy;
another was dousing some of the lanterns around the chamber. Kett was being thrown into a small pool of light as the rest of the people around him were cast into shadows.

Herezah, who had never witnessed such a thing as the making of a eunuch, felt a thrill of excitement. ‘How long will this take?’ she asked.

‘We shall be swift, Valide,’ was all the priest could offer. He wasted no further time, giving whispered orders to his assistants.

Lazar moved back to lean against the wall. He knew its solidity would be a welcome friend within a few minutes. The Spur was hardly a squeamish man but this was one ceremony he was glad was a secret ritual. He cast a careful glance towards Ana; she looked desperately pale and frightened. Ana turned as if hearing his thoughts and they shared a long searching look. The depth of sorrow in her eyes awakened a fierce yearning in him. He wanted to own her. He wanted her to be his and now she was lost to him, offering herself up in exchange for the black servant. Kett would hardly thank her for it, Lazar thought grimly, believing he himself would rather die than go through this barbaric procedure and, worse, live with it for the rest of his life.

Salmeo began to speak quietly as the preparations were made. Kett began to whimper, catching sight of a small curved blade now being studiously sharpened by the priest.

‘What you are about to witness is one of the most secretive of rituals preserved in the harem. It is not to be spoken about outside the harem walls. In this rare instance it is being used as punishment, but Kett will appreciate in time to come that he is privileged. It is a high honour to serve in this way.’ Salmeo stopped abruptly and turned to the priest, also a eunuch. No doubt both men were remembering their own terrifying rite of passage. Lazar held his breath and prayed the next few minutes would pass quickly.

‘Ready?’ Salmeo asked.

The priest glanced at his helpers, each of whom nodded solemnly. ‘We are.’

‘Kett,’ Salmeo began. ‘Be brave now. Your blood is spared and you are entering a new way of life. A new form of service. The most secret and privileged of slaves.’ His voice was so cloyingly gentle that Lazar had to look away from Kett’s trusting face. The boy knew something terrifying was about to occur but Lazar could see that he also grasped that he had no power to prevent it. It was easier to co-operate and, like Lazar, pray to the gods that it end quickly.

The assistants undressed Kett and laid him down on his back. His head and shoulders were framed by the flickering candles. The priest threw something into the flames, which sparkled and crackled. It seemed to signify the commencement of the ritual. Two of the assistants flanked Kett to hold the boy down when the struggle began. The third man used
long strips of white linen to bind the area tightly beneath Kett’s belly button. They did the same to the high part of his thighs. Kett began to moan. He understood now. Curiously, he turned his head and searched for Ana who locked her gaze with his. Lazar watched the two youngsters share something. Sympathy? Fright? He didn’t know, but with adults in the chamber perpetrating this horror, it was little wonder that they sought solace in each other.

‘The bandages prevent excessive bleeding,’ Salmeo explained softly to Herezah.

‘Can he die from this?’ she whispered.

‘Oh yes. Many do in fact. Zarab will choose.’

‘Drink this,’ the priest said, handing Kett a small cup and helping him to sit up and drink it!

Herezah was intrigued. ‘Is that for pain?’

‘A dulling concoction to prevent panic,’ Salmeo answered.

A prayer was murmured over Kett, the priest and his assistants holding hands above the child. An assistant reached for a bowl. Another prayer was cast before a sponge was dipped into the bowl and squeezed out.

‘What’s that grey liquid they’re smearing on him?’

‘That’s boiled water-of-pepper and juniper. It is made by the priest who casts prayers to purify it and to purify the boy. He must do this three times in between praying for Kett’s life to be preserved and for his own hand to be guided for the cut.’

Kett squirmed under the heat of the liquid around such a tender area. Lazar could see steam rising from the boy’s body, wanted to close his eyes but kept them open to honour the slave who was showing more courage than he felt sure he could under the same circumstances. He was moaning, yes, but no words, no pitiful cries, or begging for mercy. Why? And all the time his head was turned towards Ana, watching her whisper her prayers.

‘What is it supposed to do?’ Herezah asked as they watched the priest complete the third bathing. Salmeo kept his voice low but Lazar could hear the words plainly enough, which meant they were sparing Kett none of the grisly details. ‘It simply bathes the area. Makes it as sterile as possible, Valide.’

‘I see. And you, Salmeo, went through this precise procedure?’

‘Yes, Valide, to a point.’ His timing was perfect for the priest had just positioned himself between Kett’s legs. He reached for the sickle-shaped knife. ‘And now we must choose,’ Salmeo finished.

‘Choose what?’

‘What type of emasculation you wish for Kett.’

Lazar fancied that he saw Herezah tremble at the eunuch’s words. ‘Choose?’ she repeated in a smoky voice. ‘Explain the options to me again.’

‘Yes, Valide.’ He knew she would ask this of him, understood her need for theatre and the cruel streak that demanded she make the boy
suffer a little longer. ‘There is the clean-shaven or the Varen. All of the sexual organs are removed in a single cut. Or, there is the Yerzah—this fellow loses only the shaft. Perhaps the worst of the three, Valide.’

‘Oh? Why do you say that?’

Salmeo shrugged. ‘Well,’ and somehow everyone in the room knew the Grand Master Eunuch was Yerzah, ‘he has the ability to procreate, he just doesn’t have the equipment.’

‘Why is that hardest of all?’ Herezah persisted.

Salmeo’s lids lowered slightly and Lazar noticed the rope scar twitch. ‘Because he doesn’t lose the desire to copulate, Valide. He cannot satisfy a woman by traditional means and he cannot satisfy himself by any means.’

‘I see,’ she said, smiling beneath the veil, storing away another treasured item of information about the Grand Master. ‘And the third method?’

‘Is called Xarob. This eunuch is rendered sexless by the damage, often removal, of the testicles.’

‘How do you damage them?’

Salmeo looked at Kett; the boy needed to be cut before all blood was strangled by the tight bandaging. ‘We must hurry now,’ he said softly, adding, ‘damage can be achieved by twisting the testicles, searing them, bruising them or bandaging very tightly as one might an animal who is to be castrated.’

‘Thank you, Salmeo. I think Kett is best served by becoming Varen.’

‘Clean-shaven?’ the priest repeated, to be sure.

‘Yes,’ Herezah affirmed. ‘Proceed.’

The priest nodded at the assistants who flanked Kett and they immediately held down his arms. He did not struggle. He was frozen in fear, refusing to look at anyone but Ana. Two of the assistants placed a knee across his bandaged thighs. They could not risk him jerking when the blade was doing its work.

When both were satisfied they had the boy effectively pinned, they nodded. The priest carefully grasped Kett’s genitals, ensuring he had them in a firm grip before he pulled them away from the boy’s body, and in a single motion cut through skin and tissue until everything formerly attached came away in his hand.

Kett screamed and mercifully blanked out, as did Ana, who hung limply between the arms of her guards. Lazar was helpless to aid her and was working hard at damping down his own bile.

The bloodied mass in the priest’s hand was reverently placed in a white porcelain bowl.

‘They will preserve that for him. Most of us like to keep the removed flesh,’ Salmeo said.

Herezah had not so much as blinked at the ghoulish procedure. ‘How generous,’ she commented. ‘Actually, I should like them.’

Salmeo looked sharply at her. ‘That is not traditional, Valide.’

‘Nevertheless,’ she said and left it at that.

The priest and his assistants worked fast now, taking advantage of Kett’s swoon.

‘They are placing a wide needle into the tube at the root of the shaft,’ Salmeo said. ‘It is made of pewter and will keep that tube of flesh open but plugged until Kett heals.’