Goddess

by Fiona McIntosh

  Beneath her veil, Herezah smiled.

  Lazar entered and Herezah’s heart skipped a beat. Memories of touching him only hours earlier–her lips hungry on his–streamed into her mind, stirring a deliciously intense tingling in parts of her that had long been in need of awakening. She sucked in a breath softly as he strode toward the royal couple. Her former patient looked suddenly strong, dressed in his traveling clothes. He stood tall and broad; there was color in his cheeks, his hair was still wet and she could imagine the smell of his freshly washed body. Herezah re-created in her mind the prickly feel of the stubble on Lazar’s chin against her smooth cheek and that breathtaking moment of response when she had caressed the part of him she had held in her hand. As he bowed she looked longingly at the top of his head, from which flowed the classically golden Galinsean hair she had washed so many times over the past few moons. He straightened and she allowed his proud bearing–every inch a crown prince–to impress her as she regarded the sad pale eyes, the aquiline nose, the lips so perfectly defined amid his clean-shaven face. It had been a long time since she had felt so strongly aware of her body’s needs; right now, in his company and unable to satisfy her immediate surging desire, she felt weakened.

  “I am ready to leave, my Zar,” he said.

  “Lazar, there is a change of plan,” Boaz said, and Herezah, dragging herself from her musings on the Spur, was pleased her son was being direct and firm.

  “Oh?” Lazar said, his eyes narrowing.

  “I have decided to go with you.”

  The Spur’s expression changed from instant surprise to dumbstruck. The silence lengthened.

  “And,” Boaz continued, “as you know, I am sending Pez. I fear for his safety here and he is contrary enough to be uncontrollable. If we lose him in the city or he creates any havoc during any diplomatic discussions, it could be dangerous.” He held his hand up and Herezah was surprised that the Spur wasn’t remonstrating. Perhaps Lazar was still too shocked about learning that the Zar was coming with him as well. She listened to her son’s rationale for sending Pez. “You and he get on in the same friendly way that he and I do. He feels calm around you. And I give you my permission to leave him with whomever you must in order to complete your task for the Crown.”

  “I’m sensing there is still more, Highness,” Lazar said, his tone icy but polite. “Pez is the least of my worries.”

  “I am also bringing the Grand Vizier. I–”

  Lazar’s interrupted. “Forgive me, my Zar, but this is turning into a caravan as cumbersome as that which caused the abduction of the Zaradine in the first place. If our party had been your wife, myself, and Jumo, as I originally intended, we would have made it across the desert to Romea without losing Jumo to quicksand because we were trying to feed such a vast number, or losing your wife to a madman.”

  “Are you blaming me for Jumo’s death and Ana’s loss, Lazar?” Boaz asked, his tone brittle.

  “No, my Zar, not at all. But I advised you then and I give you the same advice now: the desert is hostile,” Lazar replied carefully. “I cannot protect so many and we are vulnerable in numbers. I can perhaps look after Pez but not four of us.”

  “Lazar, I watched you cut down a dozen men in moments!” Herezah exclaimed, unable to stop herself from deriding his modesty. “It’s vital for Percheron that the Zar is seen to be doing something.”

  The Spur’s gaze, repressed fury now evident in it, slid from the Zar to his mother. “Valide, is it your idea that your son risk his life in the desert?” Lazar asked, his rage now directed at her.

  “It is not my mother’s idea at all,” Boaz interrupted before Herezah could answer. “The Valide is here because I have just told her of my plan. And also to brief me about the new liaison that seems to have erupted between yourself and her.”

  Lazar’s mouth opened and Herezah smirked behind her veil. Though Lazar had probably feared Boaz would learn of what had occurred this morning, he must have anticipated that the news would come from Salmeo, not from her. Now she had him. He would not go against the Zar’s wishes, not feeling so threatened.

  “Our liaison?” he spluttered.

  “Lazar, don’t be embarrassed,” she leaped in, keeping her voice smooth, calm. “The Zar understands. In fact, I think he might even give our new union his blessing. I wanted him to be the first to know and I didn’t want the Grand Master Eunuch to have anything dangling over either of us. You know, do you not, how cunning he can be.” Lazar nodded, seemingly stunned. “I am sure this news makes Boaz happy, in the sense that you and I no longer have to take out on each other quite so publicly our frustration at not being together. Now that the Zar and Ana are married, about to give us an heir, we need them both to feel unharassed by our bickering.” She conveyed through her pleading stare that she had good reason for this humiliating revelation and that Lazar must go along with her ruse.

  Lazar took a steadying breath, then shook his head briefly. “Zar Boaz, I do not wish to talk about this here and now. I am preparing for a dangerous journey and there are far more important things at stake for Percheron.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” the Zar said.

  “I wish to strongly counsel against your accompanying me into the desert, Highness. No Zar has ever undertaken such a perilous journey, and whatever your decision I humbly beg you to reconsider sending the Grand Vizier. He was an encumbrance last time and he will be so on this occasion. He serves no value on the journey–he is awkward on the camel, he is senior in years, he is another mouth to feed, he cannot swing a sword, and he is hostile toward Pez. If I must have the dwarf alongside me, I beseech you to reconsider sending the Grand Vizier.”

  “Lazar, I am going to share something with you now that is private. I do not fully trust the Grand Vizier to run the realm in my absence, but that is precisely what he will try to do the moment I am gone.”

  “Then don’t leave, Highness.”

  “I must. I realize that until we have our heir, I am endangering Percheron’s Crown by making myself an easy target for the Galinseans. Until my son is secured, Lazar, I must protect myself for Percheron’s sake. At the same time, I refuse to cringe and flee, so I shall protect myself by removing myself from the city. I intend to show the people that I am fighting back in a different fashion, by helping rescue the Zaradine and our heir. I hope it will bolster my people’s courage, instill a fresh wave of pride in their Crown.”

  Lazar murmured something beneath his breath before addressing his Zar. “Highness, if you leave and you take the Grand Vizier with you, who is going to be the representative who will deal with the inevitable delegation from Galinsea? Your enemy is being exceptionally patient, Highness. It surprises me and it reveals that they, too, are unsure of this war. That means we have a chance to arrest any escalation–but it needs to be handled with diplomacy and subtlety.”

  Boaz nodded. “Exactly, and why I shall ensure only the most capable of people with a definite understanding of politics. It’s important that the royalty of Percheron open negotiations.”

  Lazar looked momentarily baffled but Herezah watched with satisfaction as dawning understanding moved across his face, his eyes widening, mouth slackening. “The Valide?” He couldn’t disguise his alarm.

  “She is well suited to the task. I have thought this through, Lazar. Galinsean pride would not allow them to go to war with anyone but the Zar himself. My mother’s mind is as agile as yours or mine. And she can act more vulnerable than any man, plus you, more than most, should acknowledge her powerful skills in charm and seduction.” Herezah smiled inwardly as Boaz’s last barb hit Lazar hard. Lazar clamped his mouth tight, and stared at his Zar, his pent-up fury visible but under control.

  “May I, Boaz?” Herezah asked. The Zar nodded. She stepped forward, her eyes softening, and she saw how much Lazar still disliked her. He would not forgive her easily for either this or her previous cunning, but he was clearly mindful of his debt to her. She would trade on that. “Lazar, don’t you se
e we have to keep Boaz safe? I agree that he should not be put in any danger. Perhaps you could leave him somewhere that is relatively safe whilst you press on toward Ana? No, Boaz,” she said, turning at her son’s sound of disgust, “Lazar must have some say in this. He is leading this journey again, and after the last attempt I can understand his anxiety and reluctance. We must respect his knowledge and fears.” She turned back to Lazar, her eyes glittering, hoping he was taking in her silent messages. “But if Ana needs help being carried, you have more hands if Boaz is there. If you need more eyes to scan the dunes, you have them–and this time you don’t have your trusted Jumo at your side. Furthermore, I’m sure news of our Zar’s journey would impress your father, Lazar. He would at least hold off on any engagement with our army until Boaz was ready to accept defeat or fight.”

  “You claim to know the Galinsean royal mind well, Valide,” Lazar replied, cutting through her smugness.

  “I have known you for long enough, Lazar. You have been our silent teacher.”

  “I am not my father,” he growled.

  “But you know what we say is true,” Boaz joined in, his words sounding final.

  Lazar bowed. “Zar Boaz. I will give my life for you, but not for the Grand Vizier. I can be no more honest than that.”

  “Or blunt,” Boaz replied. “He can take his chances, Lazar. I feel sure we will be successful in this venture and that you will keep us all safe.”

  Herezah watched the Spur’s jaw grind before he spoke. “There is nothing more to discuss, then, my Zar. I shall arrange our departure for early this evening. We will meet at the same location from which we left originally.”

  “We will be there. We will travel so lightly you’ll hardly notice us, Lazar.”

  “I’ll make the necessary arrangements. Here is the letter for my father. Valide, I imagine you are now the best person to give this to. It is a private message.”

  Herezah noticed he could barely hide a sneer as he handed it to her. “Good luck, Lazar. I hope you will allow me to say farewell properly.”

  Lazar refused to answer her, bowing instead to the Zar. “I shall take my leave, Majesty.”

  But Lazar didn’t leave immediately. Suffused with anger, he left a message with Bin that he would be in his old sick chamber and wished to speak with the Valide if she would meet him there.

  He strode through the palace toward the harem, veering off in the direction of the wing where his former rooms were located. Once inside, he prowled around his old quarters, as restless as one of the great cats he had watched roaming up and down its caged enclosure in the royal zoo. Memories got the better of him. He left the chamber as thoughts of Herezah’s seduction assaulted him for the second time today, stepping out grim-faced onto the balcony and dragging in a lungful of sea air in the hope of clearing his mind. The task ahead was fraught with danger; he really needed to be focused on Ana and Arafanz, not Herezah’s petty manipulations. He waited for an hour, lost in his thoughts.

  “Thinking about me?” a voice drawled as arms came around his waist.

  It was unlike Lazar to allow anyone to creep up on him, and he rounded on her angrily, as much for his vulnerability as for his anger at her actions.

  He pulled her arms from his body roughly. “What game are you playing at now, Herezah?”

  “Lazar!” she breathed. “You are exciting when you are stirred like this.”

  He batted away her playful hands. “Have you finally gone mad?” he demanded. “What is in your head, convincing your son to go into the desert? You are aware that Arafanz is likely to want the entire royal family, and those that serve them, dead?”

  “How can you possibly know that?” she asked, her friskiness temporarily banished.

  Yes, how can I know that? he asked himself, annoyed that he’d let that information from Pez slip.

  Herezah gave him the answer. “Did that madman threaten us further after he’d sent us off like dogs running in the desert?”

  “Did you think he was just playing some sort of game? Did you not imagine that he would strike you down in a blink? Of course he told me! His very intention is to kill the Zar.”

  She frowned, arrested by his claim. “He stole Ana to lure Boaz?”

  “Quite possibly.”

  “I thought he’d taken her for himself.”

  “I believe his intentions are aimed squarely at the Crown. And now you’ve just handed him the Zar of Percheron on a platter. I had a slim chance, Herezah, of finding and bringing back the heir of this realm. You’ve dashed that tiny chance now. You’ve not just burdened me with Boaz, inexperienced, needing day-and-night protection because of who he is, but just in case it wasn’t enough of a challenge you’ve also lumbered me with an old man who brings nothing but more trouble. Plus there’s Pez. How am I supposed to launch a rescue mission when I’m babysitting the Zar of Percheron?”

  He was just short of shouting, knew he was getting through because for only the second time in all the years he’d known her, Herezah looked frightened. The first had been when she was facing death at the hands of Arafanz’s warriors. Now she looked genuinely fearful of him.

  “I…I thought it was the right thing to do. He is in greater danger here, surely?”

  “The right thing for him?” Lazar mimicked. “Or for you? Now you get to play queen for a while!” He twisted back to face the sea, his disgust at her at clearly visible on his face, mixed with anger.

  “Is that what you really think?”

  “Tell me, Herezah, because I’m all ears as to what else could possibly inspire you to send your precious son to almost certain death!” he spat.

  “I won’t be spoken to like this.”

  “You won’t? Or you’ll have me flogged, burned, have my throat cut? I think not, Valide. Not when there’s a Galinsean war fleet just itching to pull into Percheron’s bay, and when our only slim hope–and that’s all it is, let me assure you–of holding off war is me alive and well.”

  “You have an inflated idea of your importance to this realm,” she hurled at him.

  He surprised himself by laughing. “Is that so? Valide, without me the heir of Percheron is lost. And that means the society you know and love is finished. How do you fancy living under Galinsean rule? You’ll be well and truly out of the harem–that I can promise you. But you may not like serving King Falza and he will be sure to turn you, especially, into a proper slave. No gowns, no servants, no bathing, no feasting. You’ll work so hard you’ll weep. Your skin will itch from lack of cleanliness, your so beautifully groomed fingernails will be filthy and broken. But let’s look on the good side. You’ll certainly have at least one meal a day and you’ll never have to fret about the men in your life.” He leaned close. “You’ll have them queuing at the door and they won’t have to ask your permission.”

  She shoved him away, breathing hard. “I do not have grand notions of ruling alone. Believe me Lazar, this was not my idea.”

  “Not your idea? I know it wasn’t Boaz’s inspiration. His mind doesn’t work like that. Only yours does!”

  “You forget, you arrogant Galinsean swine, that my being Boaz’s proxy shifts focus away from our dalliance.”

  Her words hit like stones. “Swine? I’ll remember that next time you’re throwing your body at me. Let’s be clear right now, Herezah; there was no dalliance, as you call it. There was a woman, filled with lust like a dog in heat, who took advantage of her position and a man’s gratitude for her kindness, a kindness so rare in his experience with her that he was surprised into giving over a measure of trust. You may recall, through your haze of salacious desire, that this dalliance was one-sided.”

  “That’s not what my hand told me.” She sneered, glancing toward his crotch.

  His lips thinned. “Valide, it seems you have not known enough men. A shehazzah from the docks who preys on drunken sailors with little coin could achieve the same effect, so long as I didn’t have to see her face or smell her. Her hand is no different from yours,
just dirtier…perhaps more experienced.”

  The sound of the slap across his face seemed to echo off the walls. For a moment, whilst he saw stars, Lazar was certain the Elim would come running to see what had created such a terrible noise.

  He didn’t cover his cheek with his hand, though. He turned and stared back at her, eyes glittering with such fury and threat that Herezah looked down.

  “Lazar, I’m sor–” But she was not permitted to finish her apology.

  “You will never raise your hand to me again, do you understand that, Valide? The next time you think about striking Galinsean royalty, be prepared to die for the privilege.” She looked up at him, visibly trembling. “And I never want to feel your touch on me again. It revolts me.”

  “Lazar! I was just trying to protect you, I swear it.”

  “Protect me? From whom?”

  “From Boaz. He suspects you of holding unhealthy feelings for his wife.”

  “You lie!”

  “I do not! Ask him yourself if you dare. Didn’t he warn you before you left on the desert journey? He certainly warned your little Ana to be very careful how she conducted herself. And you were both certainly cautious. You are transparent to me, Spur. I have never allowed myself to dream that you might fall under my spell as you have Ana’s. But I am under yours, and call that idiocy if you must, but it prompted me to hide your sad devotion to her behind the ruse that you and I are lovers.”

  He continued to stare unblinking, shocked by her mangled rationale but determined not to admit to his true feelings. “You really believe you are helping me, don’t you?”

  “Boaz is a man of passion, Lazar–and he’s too young to be as rational as you or I. He has been carried away by his ferocious love for the same woman who has seemingly stolen your heart. No,” she said, a finger to her lips as she spoke softly, “do not deny it. It matters not anymore, for she can never be yours. The fact is, Ana carries our heir. And I will do everything I can to ensure that Joreb’s line continues to rule Percheron. That baby is more important than you or I, than Ana…than Boaz himself. The boy must be brought under our safety.”