Unveiling the Sorceress

by Saskia Walker

  Santor chortled to himself. “Oh, I think it is within your power to resist this urge you have to possess her ... but will you really want to resist it, Amshazar, hmm?” Even though his form was not fully realized, the twinkle in his eyes was.

  Amshazar ignored the statement, arching an eyebrow at him, unwilling to answer such a provocative remark.

  "The Aleemites are passionate people,” Santor went on, “their Empress is a perfect example of that. She is a lush woman.” He moved his hands through the air, as if outlining an invisible female form. “To bed her would, I'm sure, be most—"

  "Hold your tongue, if you are able, and stop quizzing me on the subject,” Amshazar whispered. “I am trying to order my thoughts for a more pressing matter, that of revealing my more noble intentions to her."

  "Ha, are you indeed?” Santor nodded, knowingly. “I'll leave you to stand here in the bushes gazing up at her window, while you contemplate these more pressing matters; shall I?"

  Amshazar gave him a terse smile. “Why don't you do just that, and perhaps you will choose to converse with me more sensibly in the morning."

  "Perhaps I will.” Santor dipped his head and with another quiet chuckle, was gone.

  "More of a trial than a guide,” Amshazar murmured to himself, after he was gone. It was infuriating at times, having a spirit guide who thrived on mischief. Brooding, he continued to merge with the night shadows after Santor's unexpected intrusion.

  What Santor said was true, as ever, though. It made him ponder the situation, and that was his guide's purpose. Whilst he knew he must not reveal the reason for his presence too soon—for it might put her in danger—he wondered how long he could afford to wait. The moment would come of its own accord, when their minds could meet and exchange this vital knowledge, the knowledge that would empower her and help her survive the treacherous times ahead. He only hoped it was soon enough.

  The sound of her laughter reached him once more, and he sighed into the night. Above all, he needed to keep his wits about him, in order to encourage the moment when it arose. He couldn't afford to be distracted by her beauty and her feminine allure. He had chosen the life of a magus, eschewing the normal path a man might take. The gods had chosen him to undertake their will, and the goddess Sevita had sent him because she knew he would help her prove her additional point about women as magi.

  So he assumed.

  He stared up at the balcony, wondering, suddenly unsure. Eventually, he left the hidden spot, but only after the candles faded and the night sky had begun to brighten.

  EXCERPT

  Chapter Three

  Yoshi, Elishiba's seeress, was intent on the dual pursuits of speculating about Amshazar, while attending Elishiba in her chambers. With the back of her wrist, she pushed back the scarves that encroached over her forehead

  "This man they call Amshazar, he is no Karseedian, no. Perhaps he is from another place, another time.” She hummed to herself, as was her way when she followed her own thoughts.

  Elishiba knew she ought to hush her seeress, or tell her to focus her mind on something more relevant, but she was reluctantly curious to hear anything about Amshazar, so let her chatter on.

  "There's that special glow about him, oh yes.” Yoshi's eyes glistened, heavily fringed and full of hidden secrets and visions. She flashed them at Elishiba, to emphasize her words.

  "You are sure he has powers?” Elishiba asked, tensing as she did. If Yoshi confirmed what she herself had felt the previous evening, her worries would only multiply.

  "I am sure enough, but wait while I ponder it more.” Pausing in her task, she leaned back on her small stool and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Her veils slipped back over her thick, short black hair, and wisped lazily to rest over her shoulders. She hated to wear her hair long, but covered her head in scarves to create the illusion that would make her accepted in their society. Despite her many years there, Yoshi was no court player at heart.

  Yoshi had been selected by Elishiba's mother to be Elishiba's nursemaid, and had been by her side since her birth. She had been one of her closest companions ever since. Aside from her companionship, Yoshi also had the gift of sight, the sight of things yet unknown. She could tell fortunes and occasionally had visions that would direct her chosen ones to wise words and actions. Elishiba waited, breath bated, to hear what she might have to say.

  Her eyes flashed open and her mouth moved into a secret smile. She eyed Elishiba up and down appreciatively as if responding to her thoughts, and then bent to pursue her task once again. She was crushing vanilla pods between her hands, and then rubbing the oil over Elishiba's hands and arms.

  "What do you see?” Elishiba asked, growing frustrated. She knew by her actions that Yoshi had seen an image of the future.

  Yoshi shrugged, chuckling to herself. “You find him pleasing to look upon, yes?” Her softly rounded features glowed and she beamed, her expression filled with amusement.

  Elishiba tried to control her annoyance. It was a direct question regarding a subject she had yet to completely understand. “He is a beautiful man, yes.” She tried to sound objective. “But it cannot be, you know that."

  Yoshi shook her head, her expression growing serious. She spoke low and intimately. “You and the magus Amshazar—"

  Elishiba interrupted, halting her with hand upon her shoulder. “Magus? He is truly a magus, as we have heard in the rumors?"

  Yoshi nodded. “Oh, yes. And you are destined to share the most intimate gifts of the love goddess with him ... he will fan the flames around you and then draw and sup from the waters of Sevita's secret oasis, deep within your body. He will bring you much pleasure."

  Elishiba felt suddenly light-headed.

  She closed her eyes, but as she did she was more acutely aware her skin tingled and her intimate places felt hot, damp and heavy. She chastised herself, reluctant to allow herself to drift with the physical responses that were stirred in her at that moment. Whether Amshazar was friend or foe was far from being established. Her father and her country were at risk. She had to tread carefully.

  Yoshi shook her head and continued. “He will bring you many gifts; he will unleash the woman in you and more. You will find your power and your inner vision, that which I have not been able to reveal to you all these years.” Yoshi sighed in disappointment.

  This last was a more familiar topic of conversation. Yoshi had often told her she had the ability of sight unseen, but Elishiba had found no evidence of it to date and, being a pragmatic soul, dismissed her words. Now that Yoshi was attaching so much significance to this mysterious man, this enemy of her people, it only served to send Elishiba into confusion, even though she wouldn't admit to it. Instead she blamed the scent of the vanilla. It was heady and intoxicating; that, she decided, must be the cause of her lack of focus.

  "Enough.” She drew Yoshi's hands together to stop her actions. “Elra, call for the nubile ... it is time for us to make him one of our own."

  Amra and Elra rose from their places quickly, their eyes sparkling. Elishiba felt a momentary pang of pity for the poor youth. The sisters were going to create mischief with him, but it would do him no harm—far from it—and the interlude would be a welcome distraction from the sense of uncertainty that increasingly threatened her equilibrium.

  "Are you all ready?” she asked, and her question included Yoshi.

  The twins began to move in response. Elra went to the bedchamber. Amra ran across the room and pulled the bell rope to summon an attendant.

  Yoshi nodded, a slight smile around her mouth as she brushed a stray vanilla seed from Elishiba's arm. “It will be, you and this Amshazar ... by the flames of the love Goddess Sevita, it will be."

  She stood up, fetching her stool up in one hand, drawing her scarves back into place with the other. “And the pure one, this nubile slave.” Yoshi nodded toward Amra, who had pulled the bell rope to summon Kerr. “He will also be part of this, for he holds a secret, hidden link."

  She c
lipped her veil across the lower part of her face and left the room, hurriedly, so that Elishiba didn't have time to question her last and most confusing comment.

  Whatever did she mean?

  Elishiba fretted on the remark. Was the Karseedian slave part of this as their informant on the Karseedians, as she hoped he would be, or simply as a member of her staff?

  "Riddles,” she grumbled. “What use to me are riddles?” But Amra was busy instructing the attendant who had answered her call to bring Kerr to his mistress's chambers. It was time to take their places.

  * * * *

  Kerr stood outside the heavy, ornately embossed brass door of Elishiba's chambers, waiting while the guard announced him. His nerves almost had the better of him. Elishiba was such a beautiful and awe-inspiring Empress—he was positively terrified of her. Not in the same way he feared the Empress Mehmet. He understood what she was. Evil. The Empress Elishiba confused him, for she seemed kind.

  He glanced around to get his bearings.

  This palace was much less overwhelming and cavernous than the one in Lhastari. The pillars and carvings were smaller. They had not been created to make one feel as tiny as a flea, as those in Lhastari had, and they were more lovingly carved. The wall hangings he had seen were rich in color and design. The curtained balconies were draped with opaque material, light enough to lift on the slightest breeze, all of which gave the palace of Suzin a sense of calm beauty.

  He couldn't help wishing this were his new home. Instead he had to form part of the escort party for the Empress Elishiba to Lhastari, a place that he was sure she would find ugly and uninviting, in comparison.

  The heavy door swung open, and a friendly-looking woman appeared, nodding in greeting and beckoning him in with apparent pleasure.

  "I am Amra,” she said, and led him across the outer rooms of the chambers.

  She had to be one of the handmaidens he had been told about in the servants’ quarters. Then he saw that an identical woman watched from a seat by the bed as he walked by. She smiled at him when he glanced her way, and he dropped his gaze immediately, unsure of the appropriate behavior.

  "This is my sister, Elra,” said the first woman. “We've seen you in the palace and we are most pleased to welcome you into our fold. We are Elishiba's people, and we hope you will enjoy your time with us."

  Kerr wasn't used to respectful treatment. Astonished by their friendliness and overwhelmed by their beautiful symmetry, he was unable to respond with anything but a hopeful smile.

  Amra led him on again and into a large bathing room, where Elishiba waited for him beside the pool. Her eyes were momentarily clouded with thought, he noticed. She had been a kind person when he first met her and didn't deserve to have such worries.

  "Kerr, thank you for coming.” Her expression lifted.

  He inclined his head, genuinely pleased. “You want me to work with my hands, for your pleasure?"

  Elishiba smiled and so did Amra, who stood by watching.

  "Your meaning is clear,” Elishiba said, “though I feel the language you have to use is unfamiliar to you. Where do you hail from, young Kerr?"

  No one had ever shown any awareness of him as a person with a history, and he barely knew what to do or say. “I do not know where I was born, mistress. I was very young when I was taken from wherever it may have been.” He swallowed. “I was taken into Vereh, a land with a more ancient tongue, where I trained before shipment to Karseedia."

  She nodded. “Tell me, do you think you have come to know Karseedian court life well?"

  "Well enough, I suppose, mistress. I have spent the past five moons there, readying for my role. At first we heard that all four of us would be used in the Empress Mehmet's household, and then we were told we would be yours, instead."

  She frowned when he said four, and he shifted from foot to foot, always uncomfortable when he remembered his dear friend Kazeen, who had mysteriously been taken from their group. They were told he had been banished from Lhastari, for a reason that was kept hushed from them. He feared the worst, that Kazeen was no longer alive. Whispered conversations amongst the slaves who had been in the palace at Lhastari for longer than he hinted it might be so. He comforted himself with the hope that Kazeen had escaped, even if it meant he roamed the streets, homeless.

  "I hope you will be able to help me when I go there.” Elishiba spoke, drawing his attention back. “I fear I am a little nervous about the whole thing."

  He couldn't imagine a woman such as her being nervous about anything, for she seemed so brave and sure, but when she blinked her lambent eyes and smiled gently at him, he forgot to wonder any more about her comment. “I will try to do whatever I can to help you."

  "Good, good, that pleases me very much."

  Her kind words made him feel braver. “I know how you must feel, mistress,” he offered, “for I always feel new."

  "I'm sure you do.” She squeezed his arm affectionately. “Now, will your craft ease the tension in my limbs?"

  "Greatly."

  "Would it be suitable to do it here?” She indicated a long, low stone bench by the side of the pool.

  He nodded.

  "Will you need some oils, perhaps?” It was the woman called Amra who asked.

  He nodded again, and Amra collected a pottery jug of almond oil from the shelves, delivered it to him and then left the two of them alone.

  Elishiba unbelted her gown and let it slip to the floor. He felt the color rising in his cheeks and averted his face when she smiled at him. She lay down prone on the bench. He got to work as soon as she was in position, focusing on the job, his hands astutely learning her body, moving in slow strokes, to prepare her flesh for the deeper massage to come. He had been told he had a gifted touch and she appeared to be relaxing.

  He was about to ask her if his touch was deep enough, when he heard a cough behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a plump, older woman by the door.

  "Your father requests your company, mistress,” the woman said to the empress, but she smiled over at him as she did so.

  "Ah, yes, thank you, Yoshi,” Elishiba murmured, looking over her shoulder.

  Kerr's hands hovered in mid-air while he waited to see what would be expected of him.

  "Alas, we must continue this another time, Kerr.” She sat up, giving him a gentle embrace and a kiss upon his cheek—both of which shocked him immensely—before picking up her gown and wandering away from the bench. She turned at the door, still trailing the gown from one hand, her naked body gleaming against the ornately embossed brass. “In fact, perhaps you could wait here for me to return?"

  He nodded, focusing on her face, and she waved at him, smiling, as she slipped on her gown and left the room.

  He sat on the edge of the stone bench, disconsolate, waiting. Her scent hung rich and mellow in the air. He rubbed his hands together and the almond oil gently dispersed itself on his palms. He loved the smell of it, the texture. Of all the oils he had been taught to work with in the seminary where he had grown up, he loved it most of all. It was slick but light and thirsty, drinking itself into the skin. He breathed deep.

  "It was vanilla,” he whispered, answering the curious question that had been tickling at the back of his mind. She had been wearing vanilla. After a couple of minutes with his eyes fixed on the doorway, the last spot he had seen his new mistress, he began to glance around the room, looking at the bathing pool, the shelves of cosmetics, the carved dressing screen. On the other side of the pool, high up on the wall, three arched windows let the midday sunlight flood in. The whole room was light-soaked, from those windows, set so high.

  A sound startled him: it was a delicate bracelet of laughter, two chuckles intertwined. He inclined his head and tried to capture the fleeting sound. Voices, soft feminine voices, whispering. It had to be the sisters.

  Cautiously, he stood, following the sound to the doorway.

  The door stood open, just as Elishiba had left it, and he paused at one side of it. T
he choice was entirely his, to pass into its opening, or stay behind it. He thought about it for a moment, feeling uneasy, and then slid behind the door, moving to the gap at its hinge. He peeped through the chink into the space beyond, into the empress's bedchamber.

  He could see the long delicate veils of the curtains where they were pulled back along the head of the bed. Some two-thirds of the length of the bed was in his view, and, with it, the sight of the twin sisters, Elra and Amra, chatting together on the bed. Kerr shifted his position, and then drew back, focusing his eyes again. They must have forgotten he was still in there waiting. After a moment, he leaned forward to take another look.

  The two women, so identical, presented a perfect image of dusky skin and burnished hair. He'd been trained in the seminary to observe a detail to distract from the whole, during his work, and so he tried to watch their hair, but his eyes drifted. One of them lifted her arms and hoisted her wisp of a gown over her head.

  Shocked, he strained against the doorframe, resting his forehead against it, and shifted to gain a closer view. The women rolled across the bed, whispering and laughing. The naked woman gained the upper hand in a gentle play-fight, and crouched over her sister, pinning her down, the soft swells of her breasts swaying as her body moved enticingly.

  He couldn't see the face of the woman beneath, but the one above was smiling, her face lit with delight. A sense of extreme longing had him firmly in its grip. His thoughts strayed away from the lessons he'd been taught, to an imagining that he was there, on the bed, a part of their affectionate games.

  The dressed twin reached beside the bed and pulled a jeweled box close to them on the covers. From it, she drew out a long smooth object, a large crystal gem. She seemed to offer it to her sister. In the bright sunlight blazing in from the balcony beyond them, Kerr could see that it was a piece of rare amethyst, carved into the shape of a large phallus, fully erect and smooth in its length. Swollen wide and flat at the head, potent balls weighted it at its base.