Odalisque (17 page)

‘Boaz?’

‘Good girl. Well I am a friend of Boaz but I am also a friend of yours.’

‘Why are we whispering?’

‘Because I cannot risk anyone knowing that I am not a fool.’

‘Oh.’ Her eyes shone. ‘No-one knows?’

He put fingers in the air as he said the names of those who shared the knowledge, hoping that anyone looking in would think he was telling her all the insect names he knew or something similarly pointless. He wore a manic grin as he did so. ‘The Spur, his shadow Jumo, the Zar and a priestess called Zafira. No-one else except you now.’

‘Why can’t people know?’

‘Too dangerous,’ he mouthed and suddenly leapt up to spin around the room.

She couldn’t help but grin at him. ‘And you trust me with such a secret. How is that? You don’t know me. I don’t even know your name.’

‘I am Pez. I trust you because of Lazar. He trusts no-one, of course, but he seems to care about you.’

She looked suddenly awkward, shy. ‘Did he send you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why is it dangerous for anyone to know about you, Pez?’

‘Because it is. You have to trust me but you must trust no-one else in the harem itself. None of its odalisques, none of the eunuchs or other slaves. Do you understand?’

She nodded, wide-eyed. ‘You’d better do another twirl around the room.’

‘Has anyone said anything to you since you were returned to the harem?’ he asked as he returned to her.

Ana sighed. ‘They’ve told me nothing. The eunuchs who wear red asked me to wait here. Why are there none of the other girls?’

‘I met some of them in the halls. They were facing their Test of Virtue.’ He watched her defiant expression falter and understood she must have already undergone this humiliating ritual.

‘The Grand Master Eunuch is detestable.’

‘That’s his intention. He wants you to loathe him. It makes him more powerful.’

‘He wants to frighten me.’

‘And did he, Ana?’

She shook her head. The defiance was back. ‘No, I just hate him, that’s all.’

‘In truth you would all have had to face this unpleasant test anyway.’

‘Except it would be done by a trusted woman, and only when we were facing marriage. Not done by some fat, sweaty eunuch who has the desire but nothing save his groping finger to satisfy it.’

He was silent, fully sympathising with the horror of such a thing being perpetrated on anyone.

‘I don’t like men,’ she suddenly said.

‘Don’t you like me?’

‘Except you,’ and as she touched his arm, Pez felt a thrill of something pass through him. He had no idea what it was but it felt good. The sensation—for he had no other way to describe it—made him feel suddenly safe.

‘And Jumo. Surely you liked him?’ he continued.

‘Oh I do. Jumo is lovely.’

‘Lazar? I admit he’s hard to like. In fact—’

‘Yes,’ she cut across his words. ‘I do like Lazar…very much. I’m just not sure if he likes me sometimes.’

‘Take no notice. He usually kills those he doesn’t like and those he can’t kill he simply ignores.’

She exploded into laughter.

‘You have a wonderful laugh, Ana. It’s like birdsong and sunshine, a sea breeze and the scent of peryse, all thrown into one delicious sound.’

‘How can a laugh have a smell, Pez?’ she said, enjoying his imagery. She loved the delicate peryse blooms that only flowered briefly in spring for a short burst of spectacular colour and their soft yet somehow intense fragrance.

‘Well, your laugh conjures an image of a field of peryse flowers.’

‘Everyone else is right, you know; you’re definitely mad.’

He leapt from the seat and began to dance again.

‘Do you know what they’re going to do with me, Pez?’ Ana asked, suddenly sounding nervous.

And he too became serious. ‘They will need to punish you, Ana, as a warning to the other girls. No-one to my knowledge has ever escaped the harem before, so they’ll use you as an example.’

‘They’ll hurt me then?’

Pez was not one to lie to those he trusted. ‘Not to the point of marking you. Something brief and scary for the others but transient, I imagine. Lazar asked me to tell you to be of stout heart. He will see what can be done.’

‘He can’t save me this.’

‘From what I hear he’s already stuck his neck out for you, child. He won’t stop now. Lazar is one of the most intense people I know and the most driven. I imagine when Lazar loves, he loves hard and in a single-minded fashion.’

She blushed furiously. ‘Are you saying he loves me?’

‘I’m saying he will never allow someone he considers a friend to suffer if he can help it. Not very much stands in his way if he wants something.’

‘Except Herezah,’ she said, remembering the previous night and the way the Valide’s eyes so often glanced towards him.

‘Be careful, Ana. The Valide is more dangerous than you can imagine. You must ingratiate yourself with that one—far more than Salmeo even.’

She didn’t reply but nodded.

‘And now I must go,’ he said.

‘Must you? Can’t you keep me company?’

‘I want to check on Kett.’

‘The slave boy?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can I come?’

‘No, you must—’ Pez heard footsteps and he immediately began cartwheeling.

Three Elim arrived.

‘Miss Ana?’ one said politely and bowed slightly.

‘Yes?’

‘We have come to fetch you.’

‘ Anything to save me from this fool,’ she said, pointing to the spinning dwarf.

Pez felt his heart lurch for the girl. She sounded so brave and yet he knew she must be terrified. She had understood the pact between them and was already protecting his secret.

‘Where does little Ana go?’ he sang at the men, darting in front of them and pulling their sashes.

‘Not now, Pez,’ the leader said.

‘I must know or I shall start to screech.’ He’d done this once before and the Elim would never wish another similar scene again.

The man instantly capitulated. ‘She is to be flogged. Valide’s orders.’

Flogged?
Ana could only mouth the word to herself in shock.

‘Then take her away,’ he sang, his heart racing with fear for her as he twirled out of the room and hit the hallway running at full pelt.

He had to find Lazar.

‘It’s Pez, master. He says it’s urgent.’

‘Bring him in.’ Lazar turned to step inside from the balcony and saw Pez was already present. No salutation. ‘What?’ he asked, his gut twisting with worry.

‘They’re going to flog her,’ Pez said, still breathing deeply from running to the Spur’s formal abode.

Lazar, never one for wasting words, looked to his manservant. ‘A horse, Jumo.’ The dark man turned and hurried from the room. ‘How much time have I got?’ Lazar urged Pez.

‘Little. The Elim fetched her whilst she and I were talking.’

‘Knowing Herezah she’ll want to turn it into a spectacle.’

‘In which case, you can still make it before they begin.’

Lazar crossed the vast chamber in six strong strides. ‘Will you be all right?’ he asked, looking over his shoulder to his friend.

‘Don’t worry about me. Just get to Ana and think of something quickly, Lazar.’

The pain deepened on the Spur’s face. ‘That’s just it, I have no idea how to save her. I’ve been racking my mind all morning.’ His voice sounded hollow.

‘Get a message to Boaz,’ Pez said. ‘You could claim the Right of Protectorship!’

His words turned the agony on the hardened features of the Spur to dawning relief. ‘Thank you,’ was all he said.

It seemed to Pez the Spur felt more for this young woman than he cared to admit, probably even to himself, if he were willing to offer such a sacrifice as this plan would require. The dwarf shook his head, for if he was truthful there was something about Ana that compelled him too. When she had touched him earlier it had felt as
though she had ignited his soul; it was as though they were linked spiritually, and yet how could they be?

Jumo returned to disrupt his curious thoughts. ‘What’s he planning? He wouldn’t say.’

‘Right of Protectorship for Ana.’

‘May Zarab save us,’ Jumo said, touching hand to lip in a calling to the great god. He looked so fearful, it sent a fresh wave of guilt through Pez for suggesting such an idea. ‘Herezah will love it.’

Pez nodded.

‘Come, let me take you back in the cart,’ Jumo offered. ‘He’s going to need all the help we can give.’

Lazar reached the palace in minutes, leaping from his horse and throwing the reins at his own men who stepped aside and allowed their chief to run across the main courtyard. Patrolling soldiers saluted, fist on head then heart, but he didn’t acknowledge any of them.

Once inside he ran directly to the office of the Vizier. Tariq kept a suite of rooms at the palace for official duties. It was a stroke of luck that the bejewelled peacock of a man happened to step out of his chamber the moment Lazar barged into the suite.

‘Tariq, I must speak with you urgently,’ he bellowed.

‘My, my, Spur. This is most unusual. Can we not set an appointment?’ His oily manner never
failed to stoke the embers of anger that always glowed within Lazar.

‘No we cannot! It is important. Do you think I would come to you like this otherwise?’ He controlled his wrath—it would get him nowhere. ‘I would appreciate your help, Vizier,’ he added contritely.

‘I see, come in.’ Tariq’s tone was bland and disinterested but he was clearly relishing the humility of the Spur.

Lazar stalked past the surprised assistant and closed the door of the exquisitely appointed chamber he rarely found himself in. He remembered now why he hated to speak with the Vizier in his rooms. The man’s choice in furnishings and décor was ostentatious to say the least. Everything about him was contrived. And besides, he knew how much Tariq disliked him. It had never bothered him but it made their dealings tense. With Joreb in power it had been easier for Lazar to work with virtual autonomy, but with Herezah now pulling Boaz’s strings that would be impossible. Lazar suddenly felt revolted by the notion that he was now somehow beholden to this fool of a Vizier who had the ear of the Valide and thus the Zar. He forced himself to be polite.

‘I must speak with the Zar.’

Tariq made an irritating noise of condescension, as if scolding a child. ‘This is not possible, Spur. He is taking some quiet time in reflection and study.’

‘I wouldn’t make such a request if it was not important.’

‘So you say. But so is the enrichment of the Zar’s knowledge. Could anything be more important in fact, hmm?’ he asked, jewels twinkling in the shaft of sunlight that he had deliberately chosen to position himself in.

Lazar knew it was pointless to argue this. ‘Then will you get a note to him on my behalf?’ he said, then added, ‘Please, Tariq.’

The man quivered slightly, presumably at the humble tone in Lazar’s voice.

‘I shall do my best.’ He pointed. ‘There is a tablet of paper, use what you will and ink in that pot—I shall order a runner.’

‘Thank you,’ and Lazar wasted not another moment in scribbling out a rushed message to the Zar. He folded it and placed it into the small silken purse the Vizier indicated. ‘One more thing. I now need to speak with the Valide Zara.’ He saw the Vizier open his mouth to say the obvious but Lazar cut him off. ‘Don’t tell me this is impossible. I am the Spur of Percheron and require access to our most senior person in the palace. Without the ability to speak with the Zar personally, my rank demands I be given an audience with the Valide.’ And then he added: ‘I would not ask if it was not critical.’

‘Spur, this is not the way we—’ There was a soft knock at the door. ‘Enter.’

A servant arrived. He bowed and Lazar felt relieved to see the silken purse put into the man’s hands. Now that the message was on its way he could be more forceful.

‘Hurry please,’ he added to Tariq’s instructions and the servant nodded and left promptly. He turned back to the man, no longer in sunlight and looking decidedly gaunt and old too. It was hard to age the Vizier because he hid behind so much decoration, but perhaps for the first time Lazar realised that this was Tariq’s last chance to stamp his mark on Percheron. He would not survive another shift in power. It was the moment to play on the man’s fears. ‘I know this is not usual. But the circumstances are not usual either. I’ve told you it’s important, and if you ignore this request, Tariq, then I will use all of my status to make this go badly for you.’

‘How dare you threaten me!’ The Vizier fairly shook with indignation.

‘That is not my intention. I’m trying to impress upon you how important it is that I see the Valide.’

‘And you will not share with me this important matter?’

‘Tariq, you are more than welcome to join the meeting but if you don’t organise an immediate audience, I will make my own way to the Valide’s suite right now.’

It was an audacious threat considering Lazar had no permission to enter the harem. The Vizier
looked horrified by the suggestion but he knew not to challenge the Spur to defy palace rules. The man was a law unto himself. May Zarab rot his soul! And what if his news really was important? The Valide would be furious if he didn’t allow it to be passed on. Unless he ingratiated himself fully with her, he would remain her puppet. Or she might choose to crush him and leave him nothing, not even his life perhaps. And she a slave! He himself came from a fine family with a proud lineage. This woman was bought in a slave market where a representative of the harem had dug his finger into her mouth and checked her teeth whilst she stood naked and humiliated with countless numbers drifting by and watching. Now she ruled the country!

Wasn’t getting rid of powerful women the way of Maliz? The demon’s name slipped into his mind so easily now. Oh yes, Maliz’s mission had been to undermine and destroy the power of the priestesses, to prevent Percheron from worshipping the Goddess and to replace her with gods, like Maliz’s own master, Zarab, whom everyone called upon now.

Maliz’s whispered promises made Tariq feel as though he too could be like Lazar, showing disdain for rules and taking the attitude that he knew best and was in control of his own destiny. And what if he could look younger, more handsome and be more like the Spur? Perhaps Maliz could help rid Tariq of Herezah as well and
he could take her role as chief adviser to the Zar. The demon was still waiting for his answer. In truth Tariq was terrified of him and still had not come to terms with the fact that the demon had sought him out; that something he had always considered only folklore was suddenly so real.