One Thousand Nights (19 page)

She listened to all this with an increasingly troubled expression. “There are so many things that could go wrong — ”

“And I am willing to take that risk.”

Apparently she had given up on making any further arguments. “Very well, Lyarris. But please — be as careful as you can. It is not that you have any experience climbing ledges.”

“No,” I replied, “but as a child I used to walk along the stairway railings at the palace. Torric and I would egg each other on, until we were caught and punished by being confined to our rooms for three days in a row. True, it was his idea, but I did once have quite a good sense of balance.”

This didn’t seem to comfort her much, but at length she gave a reluctant nod, saying, “I will cast the spell now — but I will make it last for twenty minutes, not ten, for I think that it will take you a good deal more time to inch along a ledge than it would to walk sedately down a corridor.”

“That is probably wise,” I agreed. “And if it has not worn off by the time I get to Besh’s apartments, I will simply wait until it does.”

Since she apparently thought there was nothing else to say, Therissa drew in a breath, then murmured a few words I could not quite make out, save that they sounded like no language I had ever heard. I had asked Ashara once if she felt the spell taking shape around her, had somehow sensed the magic, and she had replied that she had not. Only when she looked down and saw the alteration in her appearance did she realize that a spell had been cast.

It was not quite like that for me. I could not say exactly what it was — perhaps like the faintest touch of an unseen breeze, or the odd prickling one can feel on one’s skin when a lightning bolt strikes nearby. But I could tell magic was being worked, and even though I had invited it, still my blood seemed to run a little colder in my veins at that realization.

I looked down and saw…nothing. No, that was not right. Yes, there was no sign of the crimson silk of my dressing gown, or the light linen of the sleeping chemise I wore under it, but I noted a blurry darkness something in the shape of a woman’s body. In the shadows of the darkened palace, it would probably never be noticed.

“Gods,” I breathed, and Therissa’s lips compressed.

“There is your spell. I must beseech you to think sensibly and retire to your chambers so that it may wear off with no one the wiser, but I fear that is not what is going to happen next.”

I began to shake my head, then realized she probably could not see the gesture. “No, dear Therissa. I will go to my chambers, but only so I might escape through the window. I will be quite safe — you’ll see.”

She did not reply, only glanced away from me, her expression troubled. Not wanting to waste time on any more words, I left her tiny sleeping quarters and padded down the corridor to my own bedchamber, where I went at once to the window. After opening the shutters as wide as I could, I hoisted myself up to the sill, then dropped lightly down onto the ledge.

T
he night breeze
seemed to come to greet me, sweet and cool. I clung to the windowsill for a moment, getting my bearings, trying to re-familiarize myself with the sensation of balancing on a narrow strip not quite a foot wide. I had been very good at this sort of thing, once upon a time, but that had been almost fifteen years ago.

I inched out with one foot, then another, realizing this was going to be more difficult than I thought, simply because I couldn’t really see my own feet, just an odd, wavery dark blur. Hesitating, I wondered if I should abandon my mad plan and do as Therissa had said: return to my bed and wait for the spell to wear off. But that would be admitting defeat before I even got started. Besides, I realized that beyond the windowsill there was still a raised line of decorative tile, something I could use to cling to. No, it wasn’t nearly as wide as the ledge upon which I stood, but it was something.

So I began to inch my way along, fingers clinging to the tile, the rough edge of the raised surface biting into my flesh. Not that I minded terribly, as at least it reassured me that I still had a good grip on it. Since I faced the building, I could see nothing of what was beneath my feet. Just as well, I supposed. If I could really see what I was doing, I might truly lose my nerve.

How long that took, I wasn’t sure, although the entire time I was conscious that the spell would not last forever. I could not rush, though, for that would only increase my chances of falling. Five minutes — or an eternity — later, my outstretched hand fell upon the smooth balustrade that enclosed the balcony which was my destination, and I let out a little sigh of relief. I had survived the first part of my journey.

With arms that shook slightly, I pulled myself up and over the balustrade, then dropped onto the reassuringly solid floor of the balcony. Then it was time to concentrate as I moved as lightly as I could down into the adjoining corridor, always keeping an eye out for any guards on patrol, while at the same time reminding myself of the route to the wing Besh occupied. Left around a corner here, then straight on until I reached the staircase, then down the steps and left again until I came to the long hall with the palms in their stone urns spaced at equal intervals. Follow that to the end, then emerge into the colonnade that faced the gardens, then left once more….

It was a nerve-wracking process, one made all the more so because every so often I would come across a pair of guards making their nightly rounds. To be sure, they looked rather bored — or it seemed that way in the uncertain light of the few oil lamps that illuminated the hallways — but even so I found myself flattening against the wall as they passed, hardly daring to breathe, then waiting until they were out of earshot so I could resume my ghostly journey. At last, though, I came around a corner and saw the large carved doors that served as the entrance to my husband’s apartments.

As I’d feared, six guards stood there, all grasping long-handled poles topped with curved blades. These guards did not look bored at all. Their dark eyes were bright even at this hour of the night, glittering in the shadow of the helmets they wore.

In the back of my mind, I had hoped they would not be so alert, and that I might somehow be able to sneak past them and gain entry without having to come up with a suitable distraction. This, however, was clearly not going to happen, and so I hesitated, looking about to see what I might possibly be able to do that would draw them away from the entrance to the suite and allow me to open the door and slip in.

Around the corner were more of the heavy potted plants, and although I disliked being the cause of any destruction, I could not see anything else that might allow me to make the sort of noise that would cause the guards to come running. Gritting my teeth, I grasped the edges of the stone planter — it was nearly as high as my waist — and pushed. It rocked slightly, but it was clear that I needed to make even more of an effort. So I drew in a breath, then shoved with all my might.

The planter toppled over with a resounding crash, and I jumped, startled, before I realized I had no time to lose. Already I heard the sound of heavy boots running in my direction. Flattening along the wall, I moved like the shadow I was, back toward the double doors of Besh’s apartments. As I did so, five of the guards bolted past me, headed toward the planter I had just overturned.

A whispered curse escaped my lips. I had hoped that all of them would go, but I supposed it was too much to ask that they wouldn’t leave at least one man to maintain his guard over the Hierarch’s suite. At least he had stepped away from the door, was peering this way and that, as if looking to see whether the intruder who had made such a noise had come in this direction.

Well, she had, but I feared he would not see her. In fact, I practically slipped past under his nose. He stiffened, as if sensing something, but since I was more or less invisible in the semi-gloom of the corridor, he could not detect precisely where I was. And as his head was craned in the direction where his compatriots had disappeared, I lifted the handle to the door, opened it just enough to allow myself to slide through, then shut it behind me.

Not a minute too soon, for even as I slumped against the wall, trying to calm my agitated breathing, I saw my body slowly becoming more solid, as if resolving itself from a dark mist. Within the minute I was fully myself. The spell had done its work.

And now I must do mine.

From my past visits here, I had seen that Besh shared my dislike for having servants underfoot at all times. Yes, he must have the guards, and once or twice I had seen a quiet, unobtrusive manservant going about and lighting the lamps and such, but otherwise, these rooms seemed to be my husband’s sanctum, a place where he wished to be left undisturbed. Which was good, because my bag of tricks was quite empty. I had no more means of hiding myself, and so must hope to find my way to where he slept without being seen by anyone.

All was still here, the only sign of life the faint flickering of the flames in the alabaster sconces to either side. Only half of them were lit, and so the place had an odd, dreamlike quality very different from its normal opulence. Although I knew Besh would not be up at such an hour, still I stopped and peeked into his library. Yes, all was dark within, not a single lamp lit, and so I ducked back out into the corridor and resumed my stealthy journey into a section of his apartments I had never seen before. Here, all was unfamiliar, and I hesitated, not sure where I should go next.

But then I saw that the long hallway ended in an elegant staircase which curved its way up to the second floor, and I realized Besh’s sleeping chamber must be up there somewhere, away from the library and offices and other rooms where he might, if he wished, grant an audience to a favored member of his court. Of course, if I were truly his wife, I would know very well where his bedchamber was located, and my mouth twisted at the irony of my ignorance, even as I hurried to those stairs, made my way up the steps of gleaming marble inlaid in an intricate diamond pattern, and emerged on the landing.

There was an entrance to a corridor directly in front of me, and so I went down it, passing walls hung with embroidered silks and a few paintings, stylized portraits of past members of the royal family, done in a stiff, formal style that had gone out of fashion in Sirlende almost a century earlier. And that corridor ended in a pair of double doors carved with more of the intricate leaf and flower motifs so popular in Keshiaar.

I paused there, my heart beating so loudly I thought for sure it must be audible even on the other side of those doors. In my heart, I had been worried that there might be another contingent of guards standing here outside their Hierarch’s bedchamber, but the hallway was empty, save for myself.

All was still within. Of course it was; I did not know the exact hour, but I guessed that we were nearer to dawn than midnight. Besh would be sleeping. And oh, although I had thought myself quite fearless in coming here, now that the moment was upon me, I found it harder than I had thought to reach out and touch the carved bronze handle on the right-hand door, to wrap my fingers around it and pull it toward me.

But somehow I did force myself to do that very thing, and the door swung outward.

Within, it was not as dark as I had expected. Like my own apartments, this inner sanctum of my husband’s had a sitting room immediately inside the entrance, and there the sconces on the walls still glowed, warm light flickering across the frescoes painted on the smooth surfaces. By the window there was a desk, and at that desk sat my husband.

His head lifted as soon as the door opened, and his gaze fell upon me as I stood there in shock, staring at him and wondering why he was not in his bed.

He was the first to find his voice. “Lyarris?” he asked, obviously so discomfited that he had forgotten the distance he usually maintained between us, and used my first name. Abandoning the pen he held, he rose from his seat. “Whatever are you doing here?”

So I would not have the leisure of approaching him as he slept, and deciding the best way to awaken him. Resolutely, I shut the door behind me and took a few steps in his direction before saying, “I needed to speak with you.”

“Now? In the middle of the night?” He ran a hand through his hair, and I realized then that he wore a heavy dressing robe of dark wine-colored silk, embroidered in gold. And beneath that…nothing I could see, save an expanse of golden-brown skin, and the smooth, sculpted muscles of his chest.

My breath seemed to go out of me at the sight, and a new kind of heat washed through my body, one I did not immediately recognize. Desire. Yes, that was it. I had never experienced it before, not like this, but as I gazed on my husband, I knew then what it was to truly want the meeting of flesh and flesh that I should have experienced by now…if only my husband had been truly my husband in anything other than name.

He seemed to note my particular attention, and at once tightened the sash at his waist, causing the fabric to overlap more closely. Without precisely meeting my eyes, he said, “And how is it that you came here unnoticed, unremarked? Surely the guards would have stopped you long before you came this far. You should not have been able to go more than two paces from the entrance to your suite.”

No, I should not, thanks to the guards you have posted there, making me your own particular prisoner.
Then I pushed that thought away, deeming it not precisely fair. After all, guards had stood watch outside my chambers back in Sirlende as well. That was the way of things, when one was a member of a royal household.

I found my voice and replied, in what I hoped were casual tones, “Oh, to be sure, they do an excellent job of guarding the doorway…but I fear they do not pay quite as much attention to the window.”

These words seemed to take him aback, and he stood there staring at me, amber eyes wide in shock. “My lady wife, tell me you did not — ”

“I did,” I said boldly. “There is quite a convenient ledge that runs the entire length of my wing. It was easy as a wink.”

A bit of an overstatement, but I was not about to let on just how frightened I had been, with my feet on a strip of stone less than a foot wide, fingers clinging to the spurious safety of a thin tile border.

However, he appeared far from fooled by my nonchalance. Taking a step toward me, then another, he said, “That was quite a stunt, my lady.” For the first time I saw the glitter of anger in his eyes, and I swallowed. I knew he was not a man given to any sort of physical violence, and so I did not fear for my person, but I also didn’t want him so angry that he would not listen to what I had come here to say. He seemed to gather himself, adding, “But as you have come to no harm, I will let that go for now. I find myself wondering what on earth could have been so important that you could not wait until morning, and send word then that you wished to speak with me.”

Now that I was confronted by his very real displeasure, I found myself wondering the same thing. Truly it had been a sort of madness that seized me, in the depths of my desperation and sorrow. I moved toward him as well so that only a few hands’ breadths separated us. “My lord, I have been thinking of this man who has been captured, the one Chancellor Tel-Karinoor says was the mastermind behind the attempt on your life.”

“Yes?” Besh said, still clearly irritated. “What of him?”

“It is just — just that I have heard things, and I wonder — ”

“Heard things?” he cut in. “What sorts of things?”

From the furrowing of his dark brows, I could see that he wished to know where I would have heard anything, trapped in my quarters as I was, with only a brief respite here and there where I would walk in the gardens, or escape to have dinner in company. Not that that was much of an escape, as I had still made no good friends here at court. Everyone was courteous and polite, as befitted proper conduct toward the Hierarch’s wife, but I had thought I would find at least one person to be intimate with, as my sister-in-law had found her dear friend Gabrinne. No one had ever approached me thus, however, and if it were not for my late acquaintance with Therissa, I feared I might have started to go mad with loneliness.

Then again, there were some who might think I had already begun to go mad….

“Only that — that perhaps the evidence against him is not so damning as one might think. Is he a man of wealth? Whence came the means to hire mounted mercenaries skilled enough to take on guards from the royal household?”

Besh’s frown deepened, and I saw then that perhaps he had not considered such matters…no doubt because his
visanis
had never broached them in the first place. “These are good questions, my lady, and I will ask them of my chancellor in the morning. But I still do not understand why worry over such a thing would cause you to come here in the middle of the night, risking your very person. Surely you can never have met the prisoner, so it is not a personal concern for his well-being.”

“Of course I have not,” I snapped. “For I cannot take two steps without my movements being overlooked by at least two or three guards or maids or members of your court. But I can still use my ears, and my mind, and I am not the sort of woman to idly sit by while an innocent man is sent to his death, all because your chancellor finds it expedient to do so.”