Emissary

by Fiona McIntosh

  “Yes, my Zar.” They heard the Vizier giving orders for everyone to wait a short while.

  Inside, Boaz turned again to Ana. “What were you about to say?”

  She shook her head. It didn’t matter now.

  “Well, may I embrace my wife farewell?”

  “Seal our arrangement with a kiss?” She laced her words with levity. “I feel I have already let you down,” she murmured.

  He sighed once. “Ana. Just go in peace and know my heart is full. I will wait for your return and for you to be at the same peace. We shall take our marriage from there.”

  He was too generous. Her heart felt it might break from knowing how much pain he must be in. “You are easy to love. Kiss me, Boaz.”

  In the dark, he lifted her veil and for the second time that day let his lips convey all the love and desire he felt for her. Ana surprised herself by responding with equal ardor, knowing she needed to leave him something to cling to.

  Gently he pulled away and smiled. “I’m going to remember this moment—this feeling—until you come home to me. We shall make a son together.”

  “And that would make you happy?”

  Even in the dark she could see the glistening of his eyes, filled with emotion. “It would. It would make me proud. It would secure the line.”

  “The others—”

  “Are not you,” he interrupted firmly. “I want our son to sit on this throne in years to come.”

  He was so intense that Ana had to look away, knowing that for all his declarations of love, for all his patience with her, his generosity, and especially for promising that any child of theirs would be safe, she felt every inch the traitor. For, as if she were attached to him by some invisible thread, Ana could still feel the pull of Lazar. She knew he was out there with all the others, patiently awaiting their Zar’s emergence, indulging this wish for privacy but anxious to be gone. She could imagine his face—grimacing, as usual. The lines on either side of his mouth, so expressive even when he tried to hide how he was feeling, would be etched deeper, whilst his eyes would be flinty, glittering with disregard for the pomp and ceremony that now accompanied him.

  None of her anger at his betrayal had dissipated, but sadly her desire to be close to him was equal to that rage. Its treacherous presence seemed to mock her efforts to be immune to Lazar as well as kind to Boaz, who, after all, had thrown her a lifeline. She hadn’t thought she wanted to live, but as she had regained consciousness at the river’s edge, one look at Lazar, at that face so filled with anguish over her, and she had known she wanted life more than death—even a life of constant sorrow, filled with reminders of what she had lost and what she could never have.

  “I must go,” she said, trying to cover the awkward silence prompted by her musing.

  “Can you truly love me, Ana?”

  She felt suddenly rigid with fear. Boaz was no fool; it felt as though he’d dropped in on her thoughts. “I just need time, Boaz.”

  “I understand, and I’m giving you that time—I think you can appreciate that I have already demonstrated my sincerity in this regard.”

  “You have. And I truly appreciate your leniency, my Zar.”

  “You must not abuse it, Ana.”

  The sudden warning shocked her. She felt breathless at the coldness in his voice. “What do you mean, Majesty?” She faltered, falling back on formality to hide her uncertainty.

  “I mean simply this. The time I am extending you to grieve, to come to your own peace, to find it within yourself to be a reliable and settled member of the harem, is something I have surprised myself in giving you. My father would not have offered the same to my mother, or any of his wives, no matter how much he indulged them. And he would view this as a weakness in me.”

  “Is it?” she dared ask.

  “You know it is. Where you are concerned there is only one boundary to my love. Stay within it, Ana, and you will know nothing but generosity and gentleness from me.”

  “And if I were to cross it?” She couldn’t be sure what they were both alluding to and yet the question rushed from her lips as though she found the threat irresistible.

  “No one will save you from the death I would impose on you.”

  This time Ana did lose her breath. There was not a mote of lightness in Boaz’s words—he meant them as gravely as he spoke of his intense love for her. He was frightening in his black-and-white view of life. For all his intelligence and empathy, he viewed her with no shades of gray.

  “What is that boundary, my Zar?”

  He did not hesitate. “Fidelity. Stay true to me and you will never come to any harm again.”

  “You couldn’t save me from your mother,” she risked saying, referring to the Valide’s cunning plan to prompt Ana’s second attempt at escape.

  “This I regret. I am aware of what happened today in the harem. Pez has informed me.”

  Her alarm was obvious. “Pez had no right—”

  “Pez has every right. He and I were friends before he met you—we are lifelong friends. He is loyal to me and to you, Ana. He told me in order to protect you. Unfortunately the news reached me after I’d already had a rather stern talk with my mother.”

  “She came to see you?”

  “After the incident, no doubt, hoping to cover her tracks. I’ve never seen my mother openly lose her temper—you must have said something truly fiery to provoke her. She will never dare strike you again.”

  “I claimed we were equals.”

  “On this journey, Ana, you may even bear a higher status in the minds of those you meet. As far as the palace generally is concerned, Zaradine and Valide are equal, perhaps my wife enjoying slightly more indulgence. Unfortunately, as far as the harem is concerned, the Valide has superiority. I cannot help this.”

  “But you can change it.”

  “Over years, perhaps yes. Not by the time you come back to me, however.”

  She knew there was no point in arguing this. Boaz was right. And then she considered all that had already changed for them. Hadn’t they both had to grow up these last few moons? Boaz was already acting every inch the powerful Zar and her behavior in the harem today had surely shocked all present, including herself. Even their odd bargain showed a new maturity—she must live up to her promise to her husband now.

  “I will cope, my Zar. I will be a good Zaradine.”

  “No Zaradine, to my knowledge, has ever left the sanctuary of the harem.” Again his words sounded like a warning; she felt a spike of tension between them.

  “These are no ordinary circumstances or neither would I,” she responded with equal care.

  “There will be temptation, Ana. You need to heed what I have said.” He was treading softly, she could see this, and yet he was determined to make a point.

  Ana decided to be direct for him. “I will not try to escape, my Zar.”

  “I think we shall have to let history show us your faith here, Ana. Your track record suggests otherwise, but that is not what I’m referring to.”

  “You refer to my faithfulness,” she murmured.

  “Yes. Temptation will present itself.”

  It had been a long day and Ana’s fatigue got the better of her. She became impatient with Boaz’s couched words and innuendo, which felt suddenly sinister. “Who exactly do you think I might feel tempted by, Highness? The Grand Vizier perhaps, one of the Galinsean dignitaries? Or do you already suspect me of garnering attention from one of your mutes?” Even she could hear the edge in her voice, and regretted it.

  He shrugged away her sarcasm. “I hope you’ll never take that tone publicly,” he said, his voice soft but firm.

  “Forgive me. Dawn brought me a drowning and dusk has closed on a marriage. By this coming dawn we begin a journey to a new realm, into a lot of uncertainty, and the avoidance of a war depends on my ability to charm our centuries-old rivals. These hours I’ve lived through have been daunting and I’m feeling a little weary, my Zar. I humbly apologize.”

 
It was well phrased, with just enough emotion driving the words that he could feel her own sense of the unreal. He touched her bruised cheek affectionately. “I don’t think any of us have given you sufficient credit for what you’ve had to live through today.”

  She wanted to shake away his hand but resisted, yet something in her could not let go of their earlier conversation with its darker undercurrent. She needed to know what he knew. “Who do you keep referring to, my Zar, as being a threat to my fidelity? Please be honest with me.”

  She saw the pain reflected in his eyes when he responded. “I refer to Spur Lazar.”

  Ana felt dizzy, wondered again if her husband could listen in to her thoughts. “I…” she stammered, flustered.

  Mercifully he read her discomfort differently. “Don’t fret, Ana. I know that you have done nothing to win any other man’s admiration. All I’m suggesting is that other people seem to think Lazar regards you with something other than innocent care.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “I don’t know what I think, Ana,” and now he sounded plaintive, vulnerable. “I’m besotted with you, and that makes me jealous of any man, including the Grand Vizier, who will share any time with you.”

  “Boaz,” she began, talking to him like a wife now, “I live in the harem. The only men I meet are half men, with the somewhat dubious exception of Pez. The man who spends most time with me is Salmeo, and the Grand Master Eunuch is so repulsive to me that I would rather make love to a monkey from your zoo than with him.” Boaz barked an embarrassed laugh but nodded for her to continue. “I hadn’t set eyes on the Spur before this morning, and that was because he rescued me from my watery grave.” She decided it was pertinent to remind Boaz that for all his pledges of love, he had still permitted her execution.

  “You must also remember I have thought him dead for all of this time. There has been neither opportunity nor desire on either of our parts. And so I believe this warning, from wherever it emanates, is nothing more than troublemaking, designed to make you feel unsure of me, of yourself, of the one man who is truly loyal to you—not your father, not Percheron, not because he has some other agenda. Lazar is loyal to you.”

  She hesitated briefly, then added, “This rumormongering can only have come from one source. One jealous source always looking to stir up trouble. I’m guessing your caution springs from something your mother has said. Would I be right?”

  “And my own good sense that any red-blooded man would find you irresistible.”

  Relief flooded Ana’s body as she realized that his suspicions were truly born of jealousy and hearsay; he had not looked into her soul somehow. “Well, on the occasions I have been with Spur Lazar, both publicly and privately, he has acted toward me with the usual coldness and distance he bestows on most. In fact I recall asking him why he disliked me so much. Spur Lazar has never let his gaze linger on me,” she lied, feeling her face flush, “and he has certainly never laid so much as a finger on me—other than to bring me back to the harem when I escaped the first time and to drag me from the river’s embrace.” She was breathing hard, hoping a sense of indignation would cover her attempt at deception. Once again she blessed her luck that it was so dark.

  “We shall never speak of this again,” he said, accepting her response and her right to be vexed. “You’re right; the Valide can provoke problems where none exist. It is her way—her method of survival from years of cunning in the harem.”

  “And her own infatuation with the Spur,” Ana added.

  He sighed. “Yes, there is that, too. Nevertheless, Ana, let me end this conversation by saying we are not discussing Spur Lazar or my mother but rather you. It is you who is being cautioned. It is your actions that will be watched and no doubt tested.”

  “I understand,” she replied, not even sure she could look at Lazar in the next few moments without revealing to both him and the Zar how treacherous her body’s inclinations truly were. She wanted to tell Boaz that her mind was willing but her heart was a traitor, that her desire to be dutiful could not match her body’s desire to feel the touch of his Spur’s skin against hers. However fleeting it was, she knew her body would risk the danger, risk the Zar’s wrath, even if her good sense told her otherwise, and still it reminded her constantly that Lazar had betrayed her.

  She kissed her husband one last time, and with the help of the mute known as Salazin, she stepped out of the karak, her traitorous eyes scanning the festive crowd, and instantly picking out the the man who dominated her thoughts.

  He stood tall on a small rise that was slightly removed from the party. He was talking to Jumo and a few of his men. Beneath the soldiers their horses shifted and neighed, eager to be gone from the torches and crowd of people. And then, as if he could sense her presence, he looked up, and across the distance, he stared directly at her, into her eyes, into that perfidious soul of hers, no longer true to her but a slave to him. But something deeply sorrowful about the way he hung his head soon after they locked gazes gave her information far more revealing.

  Ana knew then and there that whatever inclinations she was fighting, he was fighting them harder.

  LAZAR DIDN’T NEED TO know she had climbed out of the karak. He sensed her presence instantly and broke away from his conversation with Jumo. His friend, ever sensitive to the mood swings of his former master, quickly picked up the thread of conversation with the other men to cover Lazar’s sudden absence, even though he remained standing in the same position on the crest of the small rise.

  The Spur’s gaze locked on Ana’s, and even though she was far away, he knew that for all of her posturing and his careful distance, nothing had changed. And that was dangerous. He lowered his head almost immediately. A part of him had secretly hoped that Ana did hate him, that she would and could never forgive him for the deception of his apparent death. He would have accepted her hatred as the price he had to pay for Lyana’s grace in letting her live.

  On the other side of the karak another figure, unmistakeably the tall young ruler, alighted to win his attention and surprised Lazar by searching him out immediately. Lazar was dismayed to see the young man’s gaze flick immediately to Ana and then back to him. The Spur held his breath—surely, surely there was no suspicion? Despite the agony of his intense love for Ana, he knew he had never revealed it to anyone, not even to her. How could the Zar, of all people, have this thought in his mind, if he did have this thought at all?

  He handed over the reins of his horse, muttered something to Jumo, and strode down the hill, ignoring the questions and inquiries thrown at him by various people until he reached the Zar’s karak.

  “Zar Boaz. You grace us with your presence.”

  Boaz smiled warmly and Lazar felt his shoulders relax slightly. “I thought it appropriate to see my wife off on this great journey, Lazar.”

  “Indeed, Highness.” He looked over at Ana. “Zaradine Ana,” and bowed his head slightly. “We have a sweet and docile filly for you to ride.”

  She said nothing but inclined her head and straightaway turned to Elza, who had bustled up to take charge. Elza was clearly enjoying the sudden notoriety of being the new Zaradine’s personal slave, and her pleasure at the chance to escape the claustrophobia of the harem was also evident in her bright smile.

  Lazar returned his attention to the Zar, all crisp efficiency. “We make for the foothills, Highness, and will camp there for a few hours. My intention is that we journey in the cool of the latest hours of darkness and the early hours of dawn until the sun gets more fierce.”

  “This is Samazen season, if I’m not mistaken?”

  “Sadly you are not, my Zar. This is indeed the most dangerous time of the year to be anywhere near the desert.”

  “But it can’t be helped,” Boaz qualified.

  Lazar nodded. “We have no choice. The desert is the fastest route. I will take every precaution.”

  “When can I expect news?”

  “I will send Jumo back as soon as we know anythi
ng, but I imagine you won’t hear much for a couple of moons, Majesty.”

  Boaz nodded. “You take with you precious cargo, Lazar.”

  “I will keep the Valide, the Grand Vizier, and Pez free from harm, Majesty—on this you have my word. As far as your wife goes, I will lay down my life for her as I would for you, my Zar, for she is now an extension of you.”

  At this Boaz fixed Lazar with an intense stare that the Spur met head on and did not waver from. There was a test in that long, searching look, and Lazar, despite his turbulent emotions, felt pity for the young ruler who was truly rising to his station and yet was obviously fragile where Ana was concerned. I know the feeling, Lazar thought, finding an uneasy smile. “I will bring her home to you safe and triumphant, my Zar.”

  And he saw something relax in Boaz as the young man said, “I know you will, Lazar, and for this I am in your debt once again.” He reached for the Spur and pulled him close. “Bring her home, protect her from those who don’t feel about her as you and I.”

  It was an odd choice of words, but despite the clumsy expression, Lazar understood perfectly what had passed between them. “As I stand here, Zar Boaz, you have my oath that come what may, Ana will live to bear you an heir.” He was stunned himself by his equally inept answer, which smacked of something far deeper than either of them understood…and yet it seemed the right thing to say. Lazar couldn’t explain it but it was as though he didn’t choose the words, they chose themselves. Whatever or why ever they came, his words seemed to satisfy Boaz, who now grinned broadly and hugged him again.

  “Perhaps she already has my heir in her belly,” Boaz said brightly. “Go about your duties, Spur Lazar. I don’t mean to hold you from them.”

  Lazar bowed, still baffled by what had passed unspoken between him and his Zar—was Boaz openly acknowledging their shared love for Zaradine Ana? And his own curious response…how could he know she would give Boaz an heir? He shook his head, confused, and removed himself from the crowd of people as another karak began arriving, probably that of the Valide, he decided. He resisted the urge to cast a glance Ana’s way and instead steadfastly fixed his eyes on Jumo and his mind on their departure, which would take place just as soon as they could get the women comfortable on the horses and settled.