The Dragon Queens (The Mystique Trilogy)

by Traci Harding

  ‘The Shah instructed that I should grant your every wish,’ Kazem said with an obliging smile. ‘So if you will both follow me…’

  Kazem gave us a running commentary on the palace and its treasures on the way to our destination, which was in one of the palace’s adjoining buildings, where the living quarters were located. The walk actually did me some good, as I got to stretch my aching muscles.

  At a huge set of double doors built in an arched doorframe, Kazem bowed to us. ‘I trust that you will find everything you need therein.’

  ‘Thank you, Kazem.’ Both Lord Devere and I bowed in return.

  Kazem advised that he would return within the hour to show us to dinner, then he departed in the direction of the court.

  ‘Good heavens,’ I gasped upon beholding the huge pool of steaming water. It was surrounded by a dozen huge marble pillars that held up a roof that was open to the sky over the huge expanse of water. The floor around the pool was black slate, but the pool itself was lined with white mosaic tiles inset with smaller tiles of black and jade to create beautiful patterns around the rim and on the floor.

  ‘Well, it might be a bit of a tight squeeze, but I think we should both fit,’ Lord Devere said cheerfully.

  We often bathed together at home; indeed, the bathroom was the only place where we could find the peace to sort out our affairs, both private and professional.

  ‘I had heard that the Persians are very particular about cleanliness, but wow,’ was all I could say as I began stripping off my layers. There was a heavenly scent coming off the water and I could hardly wait to immerse myself in it.

  The sensation of the warm water streaming over my body as I plunged into the depths of the pool was so revitalising that I surfaced to let loose a great sigh of delight. ‘I love Persia,’ I decided in that moment. ‘I think we should move here.’

  Lord Devere was taking his time undressing and seemed to be finding my frolicking frightfully engrossing. ‘Or we could simply build an indoor pool at Suffolk,’ he said.

  ‘Splendid idea!’ I rolled onto my back to gaze up at the evening sky and my body rose to float on the surface of the pool.

  A few seconds later came the splash of my husband joining me in the water.

  ‘Is there any need for this right now?’ He had noticed that I was still wearing the gold chain bracelet that held Albray’s ringstone.

  ‘Right you are.’ I removed it from my wrist and placed it on the side of the pool. ‘Now we are truly alone.’

  It was not the first time we had made love in a bath, and it would not be the last, but together with the evening we’d spent in Alexandria on our honeymoon, this encounter was among the most blissful and erotic of my life experiences.

  ‘We should think about dressing before Kazem returns,’ Lord Devere commented, and although I knew he was right, I felt we would be hard-pressed to move from where we had settled into a reclining position together on the steps leading out of the water.

  It was one of those moments when I wanted to freeze time and just stay put for a couple of days, but my little glimpse of Nirvana was brought to an abrupt end when the giggles of many women were heard close by.

  Lord Devere got the fright of his life when he spotted the large gathering of women who had entered via a door at the opposite end of the bathing room to where we had been shown in. He slid further into the pool and hugged me tighter to cover himself.

  After several confusing moments of conversation in several different languages, I finally hit on Italian, which one of the younger women present understood. She advised me that we were in the bathing quarters of the Shah’s harem.

  ‘Wonderful.’ Lord Devere smiled graciously as one of the women passed him a robe, her gaze averted. ‘Caught swimming naked in the Shah’s harem—that ought to go down well with his Highness.’

  ‘No wonder Kazem didn’t want to sanction your presence here. I understand the Shah does not allow any men to enter his harem—still intact, that is.’ I laughed at my husband’s predicament.

  A young woman handed me a robe also and explained, ‘We were sent to aid my lady to dress.’

  ‘Well then, I should really depart and leave you to it.’ Lord Devere pulled on his trousers under his wet robe, then removed the dripping item to a mixed reaction from the female audience; the older women gasped in horror whilst the younger ones giggled and cheered. Feeling halfway decent, Lord Devere gathered together the rest of his clothes and made a hasty departure, aided by Kazem, who had arrived just in time.

  ‘A thousand apologies, Lord Devere,’ the official said, suppressing his amusement. ‘I meant to be here before his Excellency’s ladies arrived.’

  ‘Better late than never, Kazem.’ Lord Devere moved quickly to join the official, as several of the older women of the harem were shouting and shaking their fists at him. Kazeem spoke to them sharply, presumably informing them that my lord was there with the Shah’s permission, for they fell silent and allowed the men to leave the room peacefully.

  For my part, I could not stop giggling. I was feeling very relaxed after my swim and other recreational activities, not to mention utterly elated by the knowledge that I was well on my way to achieving my goal. Now there was a chance my son would speak to me upon my return to the excavation site. I wondered if he had been reunited with his Miss Koriche yet.

  As I pondered these questions, I was pushed and prodded into my attire. Although my clothes were very different from the local fashion, it was clear that the women of the harem knew what they were doing. As they delighted in styling and playing with my long auburn locks, I noted that some of them were having a good giggle about something. I asked Cienna—the young woman who spoke Italian—what the joke was.

  ‘They are saying that it must be very exhausting having to attend to a husband all by yourself,’ she explained. ‘But they consider that your husband is rather beautiful and must be a pleasure to indulge.’

  I smiled. ‘That he is,’ I said proudly. ‘I could not bear to share him with another woman.’

  Cienna conveyed my thoughts to the women tending me, and they responded perplexedly. ‘But how do you ever manage to get any time to yourself to study or learn a language, create great art, or perfect your skill with a musical instrument?’

  In that moment I suddenly realised what was so attractive about harem life—it was the best place for a woman in Persia to receive an education, without the distraction of accommodating a husband and with few or no children to worry about.

  ‘I read a lot,’ I informed them, ‘and I have travelled a good deal.’

  A sigh slipped from Cienna’s mouth. ‘I travelled too when I was young, I do miss that. But I am safe within these walls and I have much to learn here. I would not wish to be at liberty again.’

  I knew instinctively that she’d been abused in the past and thus was happy to be hidden away beyond the clutches of all men; indeed, her aura confirmed my suspicion for she had residual muddy patches over her root and heart chakras. The other light centres of her subtle body were very beautiful, however, and I felt that Cienna would soon completely heal herself of past injury.

  The light-bodies of many of the other women here were much worse; one in particular did not appear at all happy with her isolated life. She stood in the doorway apart from everyone else, reading a book. Her light-body showed large muddy patches engulfing just about all of her light centres; she was truly suffering.

  Cienna saw my curiosity. ‘That is my older sister, Raineath,’ she explained. ‘We were brought to the Shah’s harem at the same time. She claims she would rather be dead than give herself to the Shah, and has shamed herself badly for telling our Supreme Sovereign so, right to his face. Thankfully his Merciful Highness showed her compassion and spared her life.’

  Raineath overheard her sister’s comment and spat on the floor. ‘He took away the only thing I love! I watched my reason for being crushed before my eyes!’

  My first horrid guess was that Rainea
th was referring to a lover or a child.

  ‘She is talking about her instrument,’ Cienna said.

  ‘How am I expected to exist without a means to express myself?’ Raineath asked me.

  ‘You brought it on yourself, Raineath,’ Cienna said. ‘You should not have offended our Lord and Master.’

  One of the older women demanded silence from both the girls, and instructed Cienna to tell me that they had finished with my hair. I was ready to attend my dinner engagement with the Shah.

  Kazem led me to the huge double doors of the court dining room, where two male attendants, dressed in silken finery, bowed to me.

  ‘The guest of honour, Baroness of Suffolk, Lady Granville-Devere,’ the Shah’s crier announced and the entire court was upstanding as I entered.

  I stood in the doorway a second, absolutely speechless.

  ‘No, you are not dreaming.’

  A hand slipped into mine and I turned to see Lord Devere. I squeezed his hand tightly to let him know that I was glad of his presence.

  ‘My lady.’ He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘I am here to lead you to our private function,’ he whispered in my ear, so that I might hear him over the blessings that the court were verbally bestowing upon us. ‘It seems we are not eating with the court.’

  ‘Are we not?’ I smiled and nodded to the courtiers as we walked down the red Persian carpet in the centre of the room towards another set of double doors that were smaller and more elaborate than the first.

  This room was far more lavish and intimate. The Shah was seated at the head of a low-lying table, around which were placed many large cushions for lounging on. There was food aplenty laid out on the table and many attendants standing around the periphery of the room, waiting to fill a glass or remove an empty plate. The Shah was speaking with Mr Taylor and Cingar, who were seated alongside each other on one side of the table. Both men rose as I entered, but the Shah, being a living god, remained seated. Lord Devere and I bowed to his Majesty, who motioned us to rise and approach.

  ‘Please, sit by me, Lady Suffolk,’ he said graciously. ‘I believe you are a fascinating person.’

  ‘I am honoured, your Highness.’

  With some awkwardness, thanks to the huge hooped skirt of my dress, I seated myself next to the Shah in a great puff of fabric. Oh how I wished to be wearing my male attire, or at least one of the slimmer-cut dresses of my youth—I felt that current fashions were a frightful bore for the females of Europe.

  The Shah kept the conversation light until his guests had finished eating. He talked about his country and about his various schemes to modernise the cities. He spoke to Taylor about several other excavations taking place in his country at present. He remarked on this afternoon’s display and asked after my wellbeing.

  ‘The bath was extremely rejuvenating, thank you, your Majesty. I felt very spoilt by the opulent surroundings.’ In my mind’s eye I was dwelling on the afternoon’s intimacy with my lord. ‘I cannot imagine I shall ever have a bath so splendid as that I enjoyed today.’

  The Shah was pleased by my praise of his hospitality and he looked to my husband. ‘I hear that you are a very good swimmer, Lord Suffolk?’

  The query nearly made my husband choke on his wine. ‘I indulge whenever I can, your Majesty,’ he granted, without confirming or denying what the Shah had obviously been told.

  His Highness found the comeback amusing. ‘As do I,’ he said, chuckling. Then his manner shifted, indicating that the social niceties were coming to an end and it was time for business. ‘So,’ he said, ‘as I am very pleased with your gift of the minstrel, I am willing to extend your permit until such time as a war between our two countries is an actuality.’

  ‘Hopefully, that shall never be the case,’ Taylor commented.

  I felt he was probing the Shah for his thoughts on the issue, for this was the first time he’d even broached the subject of Herat. The Shah, however, made no further comment that hinted at his intention in that regard.

  I had other concerns. The way his Majesty had phrased his proposal, it sounded as though he had mistaken our intent entirely.

  ‘I am pleased that your Majesty was impressed by Mr Choron’s performance,’ I said. ‘Perhaps he could play again for you before we leave.’

  Now the Shah looked perplexed. ‘You are taking your gift home with you?’

  ‘The gift was the performance, not the performer, your Highness. I thought I had made that clear. Mr Choron is my dear friend; I cannot give what I do not possess.’

  ‘But what point is there to a gift of a musical composition if there is no minstrel at my court to play it?’ The Shah was very reasonable about the misunderstanding. ‘I was hoping to stage a complete re-enactment for de Guise next time he visits.’

  ‘I could teach one of your musicians the piece,’ Cingar suggested. ‘I could stay with your Majesty for as long as my friends remain at the excavation site.’

  ‘There is no one accomplished enough on the violin whom you could instruct,’ the Shah stated.

  My mind flew to Raineath. ‘Is there not a woman in your harem who plays an instrument?’ I queried.

  The Shah appeared most displeased by the suggestion. ‘That woman is not a possibility. She will never lay a hand on a violin again so long as I live; that is her punishment for insulting her king.’

  I looked to Cingar, who was immediately empathetic towards the woman in question. ‘Why not just kill her?’ he said. Obviously the gypsy felt death would be preferable to a life without music.

  ‘She wants to die,’ the Shah explained.

  It was clear Cingar was about to say something we were all going to regret, but thankfully Lord Devere jumped in. ‘If you do not mind me saying so, your Highness, as a husband and father myself, it seems a frightful waste to be paying for the maintenance of a woman who serves no purpose to your Highness whatsoever.’

  I sensed that my husband was praying he had not caused greater insult than Cingar might have, but the Shah’s face melted to a smile once more.

  ‘You make a good argument, Lord Suffolk.’ The Shah paused, seeming to be seeing things in a new light. ‘Perhaps if I show great mercy and award this woman the opportunity to better herself, her attitude might improve.’

  I felt the Shah had a secret soft spot for Raineath, for when he spoke of her the lower light centres of his subtle body flared. It was not love, however, for his heart centre remained unaffected.

  ‘The way I see it, your Majesty, better she is a useful addition to your court than a useless overhead.’ Lord Devere was reasoning like a local now.

  ‘And Raineath is very pleasing on the eye, your Highness,’ I added. ‘I feel sure the Duc de Guise would be envious of your musician, whereas I greatly doubt he would be pleased to see Cingar again.’

  ‘Ah yes, Mr Choron’s infamous enchantment of women.’ The Shah had forgotten about that little detail. ‘Perhaps it is not wise to let such a man anywhere near my harem.’

  Cingar spoke up in his own defence. ‘That was twenty years ago, before a very happy marriage, your Highness. That legend died the day I wed my wife.’

  ‘But I understand your wife is now deceased?’ the Shah queried.

  ‘Not to me, your Majesty,’ Cingar replied, with such heartfelt sincerity that it caused his voice to tremble.

  ‘Perhaps your Highness could have the tuition sessions supervised?’ I suggested.

  ‘Oh, I shall.’ The Shah smiled to let me know we had reached an arrangement. ‘Mr Choron will be treated as my guest until such time as circumstances bring our arrangement to a close. At which time I will see him safely returned to you, for the journey home.’

  REVELATION 6

  CURSE OF THE RINGSTONE

  ‘In the Gospel of Witches, it is said that to find a stone with a hole in it is a special sign of the favour of Diana. A round stone, be it great or small, is a good sign, but it should never be given away, because the receiver will then get the good luck
and some disaster will befall the giver.’

  I was explaining the legend to my husband because, due to my own absent-mindedness, I had lost my own precious ringstone and my connection to Albray and to Cingar’s great-grandmother, Chiara. I had realised my grave oversight as Lord Devere and myself were being escorted to our private rooms after dinner. I immediately informed Kazem about the missing item and he kindly accompanied us back to the bathing area to look for my missing treasure, but my ringstone was no longer where I had left it.

  I had tried laying my hand on the spot by the pool where I had left the stone, to see if I could perceive who had picked it up, but the bath saw a lot of traffic every day and I could not pinpoint the claimant in the sea of faces that I descried.

  ‘The piece would look like a mere river pebble to anyone else, but for me it holds great sentimental value,’ I told Kazem, who said he would make enquiries to see if anyone had found my keepsake.

  ‘But the Gospel of Witches does not state whether bad luck will befall a person who loses such a stone, as opposed to someone who makes a gift of the item,’ my husband said in the privacy of our room, trying to reason with me. He could see I was fretting terribly.

  ‘I feel that as long as the ring changes hands, the curse will apply.’

  ‘I thought that you created your own reality, Mrs Devere? It is not like you to give power to some ancient superstition.’

  ‘To accept and believe in the magic, one must also believe in the curse,’ I said. ‘Polarity demands it.’

  ‘But you cannot be cursed with bad luck,’ he told me confidently. ‘You just negotiated a dream deal with the Shah of Persia.’

  ‘That was before I was aware that the stone had gone missing!’

  ‘So it is all downhill from here then,’ he mocked gently.

  ‘You fell victim to the curse yourself the day we met and I dropped the stone. Remember? You picked it up for me, although I insisted it would bring you bad luck, and then look at the hell I dragged you through after that!’