Unveiling the Sorceress

by Saskia Walker

  Her own vulnerability astonished her.

  She felt thoroughly disarmed by the desire he had aroused in her, and huddled against the bed covers. Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, she tried to cast off the powerful sensations rushing through her.

  His image had begun to creep within her blood and bond itself to her emotions. A seed of fear lodged itself within her heart, beginning to grow. Could it be that Amshazar had woven a spell over her?

  Her hands fisted against the bedcovers. How could she have allowed her emotional drawbridges to lower? He was her enemy. She ought not to feel this way about such a man. She pressed her face into the cushions, and wished it all away, but for some reason the gods didn't respond to that particular prayer.

  Instead, waves of desire assailed her, growing with every moment, and she buried her face against the bed, her body aching with forbidden need. It was then that she felt his presence returning, pacing out of the shadows to meet her: Amshazar, mysterious and forbidden. Elishiba felt his dark form brush against the glowing embers of her passion.

  Her eyes flashed open, but she was alone.

  Chapter Five

  Sibias snatched the note from the sentry who had delivered it, and read it with blazing eyes as the messenger departed. Amshazar continued to eat his breakfast, observing with cautious detachment. Sibias was in a temper, had been ever since yesterday's little interruption to his planned pontifications. Adept in the darker side of the art of sorcery, Sibias hid his black soul quite skillfully, but when he was thwarted, as he had been the day before, that black soul was all too apparent to Amshazar.

  Sibias had made it known that his sudden need for sleep after their midday meal the day before was suspicious. Mistrustful of most everyone around him in this alien province, as well as of Amshazar himself, he could not fix upon the culprit. It was a simple spell on Amshazar's behalf, gaining him valuable time alone with Elishiba, but Sibias had been fuming ever since.

  Sibias crumpled the parchment between his hands and threw it aside. “In response to my request, the empress has refused to spend her last day in Suzin continuing the interrupted class from yesterday."

  Amshazar glanced down at the older man's hands, where he could see that his fingernails were embedded into his palms. His brow was deeply furrowed, his eyes spewing hatred.

  "You will have her locked within the walls of Mehmet's palace soon enough, Sibias,” he commented.

  Sibias didn't miss the reference to it being Mehmet's palace, his eyes flashing in annoyed recognition of the remark. No one was supposed to actually acknowledge it aloud and reveal Mehmet's hidden manipulations, oh no.

  "We had a task to undertake. We didn't come all this way to waste what little time we have to prepare her.” He glared at Amshazar, and then stormed over, slamming his fist down on the table. “What was it that you said to her yesterday that made her take flight?"

  Amshazar reached out to steady the rattling platters on the table, before answering. “We spoke about the insignia of Karseedia."

  Rising to his feet, he cast his trailing robe over his shoulder. “The Empress was unwilling to accept the information we were giving at face value. She is an intelligent woman, and she is more concerned about meeting her future husband."

  He forced a smile at that point. “I suggest we allow her to get used to that idea, before swamping her with other, unnecessary information."

  Sibias's eyes turned black. His inflated opinion of himself meant that he was unable to accept advice from anyone. Most didn't try to give it, either.

  "You do not fool me, nomad. Not for a moment.” Sibias spoke with deep sarcasm. “You said something to upset her. You think you will get away with it, but you won't. Mehmet doesn't intend to let you influence her son unduly. One whiff of duplicity from you and you will be banished forever."

  Amshazar gave a quiet laugh. “I am sure Mehmet would appreciate your supplying me with that information.” He paused to watch the annoyance in Sibias's expression multiply. “If I were—in fact—intending to influence her son, knowing her intentions would put me in a much stronger position."

  "Damn you.” Sibias was livid.

  Beyond him, Amshazar saw Santor's image forming from the atmosphere. He had an amused expression on his face and nodded over at Sibias, rubbing his hands in glee. Santor was always around, observing, when drama was afoot. It caused Amshazar to chuckle.

  Following Amshazar's gaze, Sibias swung around and looked behind him. Santor mocked an obscenity at Sibias, a physical gesture more commonly found in the Souk than in the hands of a magus guide, and Amshazar felt sure the gods would have reprimanded him severely if they had cause to witness it.

  Sibias sensed the presence, but could not see it, his training in the art of sorcery being of an entirely different breed—an ugly, more malevolent and greedy breed.

  "Good day to you, Sibias,” Amshazar said loudly, drawing his attention back. Bypassing his adversary, he walked to the door of their shared dining chamber with the sound of the other man's annoyed mutterings behind him. Amshazar lifted a hand and waved when he got to the doorway, Santor waving regally beside him.

  "Wait,” Sibias called out, reluctantly, seemingly disgruntled by the change in the atmosphere Santor had caused. “I have not finished speaking, you cannot just walk away. We must insist the Empress continues her instruction."

  "I agree.” Amshazar suppressed a smile, for that is exactly what he intended, although he planned to have Elishiba pursue a different type of knowledge altogether, and, after yesterday, he knew that the Empress responded better to practical examples than to dry words. Beside him, Santor nodded his agreement, smiling, before fading away into the atmosphere again.

  Sibias narrowed his eyes, seeking out the fleeting spirit presence without success.

  "Alas,” Amshazar continued, “it looks as if today is not the day for lessons about Karseedia.” No, because he had other lessons in mind.

  * * * *

  The object was small, a pretty thing made from fine copper strands formed into the shape of a star. Elishiba had owned it for so long she didn't remember exactly where it had originated, other than it was a gift from travellers who had broken their journey at the palace, before passing along the trade route. She'd taken to the copper star when she was just a young girl, and her father had allowed her to keep it. It sat by her bedside amongst her other favoured trinkets, until today, when she had awoken looking at it. She'd picked it up and turned it in her fingers—it wasn't a heavy thing, barely weighed anything at all.

  It had been late, very late the night before, when her mood and thoughts had finally turned away from the subject of desire, to the other emotions and ideas Amshazar had set running within her. She was fixed on the suggestion he had made about sorcery being within the reach of even simple men. Could it be so? An impulse to find out had urged her into action. First, she'd sent a note to Sibias refusing his instruction—the notion of spending her last day in Suzin closeted with the old goat, as Yoshi called him, repelled her. Then she dressed in plain robes for the day ahead.

  Taking the star into the receiving room of her chambers, she set it down on the stone table. Beyond it, the sheer curtain at the balcony lifted and wavered in the breeze. The curtain moved easily. How hard would it be move an object such as the star, without touching it? Amshazar's words still whispered in her mind.

  Simple sorcery is within your reach.

  The idea excited her. That she could not deny. Why had he even said such a thing to her? She could see no obvious motive in his words and actions, but there had to be one. He'd indicated he meant her no harm, but could she believe that? He definitely wasn't in league with Sibias that much she felt sure of.

  The power is there for you to channel.

  How? She'd always assumed sorcery was a learned thing, and yet he had spoken and acted as if it was something that came from within. Yoshi had often remarked upon the slumbering nature of Elishiba's soul, but Elishiba adopted a more pragmati
c approach. Until now. The idea that sorcery might be within her reach at her time of greatest need lit her up from within.

  Pulling a cushion closer, she sat cross-legged in front of the stone table, her elbows on her knees, her fingers meshed. She concentrated on the object. Resting on three of its points, it was a tiny little thing, fragile. Not heavy. Surely she could perform a simple trick like this?

  Time passed.

  Nothing happened.

  She concentrated on the star until her head hurt, and her eyes were stinging from staring at it. She wasn't doing it right, there had to be something else that she was missing. Flexing her shoulders, she held out her hands and tried to visualize light coming from her palms, as Amshazar had manifested the day before. She moved her hands, willing it to be so.

  Still nothing.

  Slumping, she rested her temples in her hands, cursing under her breath while still staring at the object. It was stupid of her to have hoped for such a thing. How could she know anything of sorcery? She had never felt anything like it before. Her heart was in turmoil, because at some point in the night she had latched onto this vague notion of it being within her own grasp, as a means to help her people. She was clutching at futile, unrealistic hopes. That was all it was.

  "How can I help my people if I cannot do such a simple thing?” Frustration boiled up inside her and she glared at the object.

  As the rush of emotion was unleashed, the curtain at the window suddenly lifted, wavering wildly into the room.

  She felt no breeze.

  Her glance fell back to the object on the table. The star was tipping slowly. Rocking upon the three points it currently rested upon, it was lifting and teetering toward a fourth point.

  Behind her the door flew open.

  As it did, the star rolled across the table and dropped to the floor. Astonished, she rose to her feet, her hand at her throat to quell her erratic breathing.

  It had been the door opening. Nothing more.

  But ... had the star not moved, ever so slightly, before that moment? The curtain, too, had gone against the breeze.

  Emotions tumbled within her, confusion, momentary hope, and disappointment.

  Elra and Amra closed the door behind them as they entered, and Amra spoke when they saw her. “Mistress, forgive us, have we disturbed you?"

  "No, I was only thinking.” She took a deep breath, laughed at herself, and then smiled reassuringly. “Come in, I am almost ready."

  Lifting the star from the floor, she was startled to find it warm in her hands, as if it had been held over a flame. Something had happened. She put it down reluctantly. Later, she promised herself.

  She snatched up a black scarf she had left nearby, and ushered the twins in. They nodded at the sentry as they left the chambers and Elishiba informed him that should her father call, she would be gone for some time, walking in the gardens. The three women then headed into the servants’ quarters, and on, to a small gateway that led into the city.

  Elishiba bound her head in the scarf as they went, concealing her face and leaving only her eyes visible, so that she looked like none other than one of the staff, venturing out into the heart of Suzin.

  With Amra and Elra similarly attired, they walked the passageways as if they were ordinary women, women of the city. They each carried baskets to make their amble through the busy streets seem natural, and so it was that Elishiba was able to take in the scents and sights of everyday life. Members of the emperor's household were not expected to walk through the streets on foot, but she often did this, secretly, to observe life in the city without being observed herself. This time was particularly precious, for she wanted to store her memories of life in her home before leaving it.

  As they passed along the streets to the busier part of the city, she pushed thoughts of sorcery and salvation from her mind, vowing not to be swayed from her purpose, like a flitting bird drawn to something shiny.

  "Where would you like to go, first?” Amra asked.

  "The temple,” Elishiba replied. “Then the Souk.” She took Amra's arm as they walked. “Tell me, how is our new friend, young Kerr?"

  Amra chuckled. “We spent a most pleasant evening with him last night, chatting about the palace he knows, how it differs to our own."

  "We learnt much,” Elra added. “I can picture the place already."

  The twins went on to describe various features that Kerr had described, as they walked, and Elishiba listened carefully, noting that the palace in Lhastari sounded much more immense and complicated than their own. She rejected the feeling of unwilling containment that crept up her spine at the thought of being closeted inside the palace, their old enemies’ stronghold, concentrating instead on the details that might be helpful to them when they arrived.

  "Have you noticed anything about the other young slave that they brought with them,” Elishiba quizzed. “The dark-haired one known as Patrino?"

  Amra shook her head.

  Elra frowned. “He does flit between the servants’ quarters and the chambers where the Karseedians rest."

  "Now that you say it,” Amra added, thoughtfully, “I do recall seeing him about the place."

  It was just as Elishiba had suspected. “I think he spies upon us. Perhaps for Sibias, or maybe Amshazar, or perhaps for my future husband.” She couldn't keep the cynicism from her voice. “I suppose we should expect it from all of them. Kerr seems to be more trustworthy, or a better actor."

  "We cannot be sure,” Elra replied, cautiously, “but he has given us no reason to mistrust him."

  Elishiba nodded, lightening the mood. “I agree. Did he stay with you willingly? Have you won him over?"

  Amra covered her mouth with her fingers as she giggled and leaned in to whisper her answer. “He spent a restless night attempting to sleep between the pair of us."

  "We claimed we were cold,” Elra whispered on the other side.

  Elishiba laughed softly at the image. “That poor young man, you have won his devotion already. That is good."

  As they moved away from the main thoroughfares, they passed along the narrow, cloistered passageways that led into the temple courtyard. The whitewashed walls in the covered passages were broken up occasionally with fretwork grills, behind which were the quarters of the temple priestesses, the women that tended and watched over Sevita's temple.

  The temple itself was hidden in the midst of the city, and they grew quiet as they approached. The guards at the gates let them pass, and they mounted the wide stone steps between the massive pillars that fronted the building. Pushing open the heavy cedar wood doors, the three women went inside.

  The temple was quiet, for which Elishiba was grateful. She preferred it when it was like this. At times of pageant the temple was lit by thousands of candles, reflecting off the floors and walls where each and every tile was plated with silver and gold. It gave the impression that visitors were walking on a path of sunlight, to worship at the goddess's feet.

  Today the temple was fairly subdued. A temple priestess moved amongst the candles, shifting some, lighting others, her simple white gown swaying as she moved, her long hair trailing down from her shoulders to the back of her thighs. The few candles that were lit had been placed around the massive representation of the goddess herself, at the center of the temple. The flickering flames of the candlelight reflected here and there on the precious metal on the floor, so that Sevita appeared like a sun radiating out from her center.

  As they walked toward the massive stone statue, the twins separated off, each taking a kneeling cushion in the shadows, allowing Elishiba this personal moment with her favored goddess.

  A long, velvet-covered kneeling pad stood at the bottom of the steps up to the statue. Elishiba set her basket on the floor and then dropped to her knees, looking up at the goddess. Here she found her own serenity, her own strength. She drew it from the goddess who was loved by her people.

  The stone likeness was the height of five men, reaching almost into the roof of the
temple. Sevita was depicted naked and on her knees. Between her open thighs, precious gems, silver and gold coins were piled up into the crease of her womanly channel, like the waters that she watched over, the essence of life. The serene face of the goddess smiled down at Elishiba, and she felt almost at peace, for the first time in many days.

  "Guide me, Sevita,” she whispered. “Show me the way, whether it be through wit, war, or self-sacrifice, I need to know the way."

  Above the statue, high in the ceiling of the temple, a patterned beam of sunlight poured through a carved panel, spiraling out, creating a spiritual pathway between Sevita's heavenly being and her physical representation here in the temple. As Elishiba looked at the statue and then up, to the pathway of light to the spiritual being in the heavens, words whispered around her mind.

  By the goddess Sevita, it will be.

  Yoshi's predictions. The echo of those words made Elishiba's skin tingle. Amshazar's image came to her mind—it was never far away, not since she had first seen him. It caused a wave of heightened awareness to wash over her body. The desire that she felt for him, was it wrong? Would it cloud her vision? Would it put her people in danger if she allowed herself to be totally seduced by his spell?

  Staring up at the statue, she felt only the warm embrace of the goddess's love in response to her many questions. Sighing, her gaze rested on the bountiful breasts of the goddess, and her own breasts ached to be touched.

  He will sup from the waters of her secret oasis, deep within your body.

  Again, Yoshi's predictions haunted her. Heat flared at her core, her channel tightening. She blinked back the wave of desire that coursed through her, her body wavering.

  "Trust in the goddess,” a woman's voice whispered.

  Elishiba turned toward the sound.

  It was the temple priestess. She had paused beside the kneeling figure of her cloaked empress, a bundle of candles in her arms. “I sense you have a woman's decision to make, am I right?"

  Elishiba nodded, her fingers moving to the scarf that covered her head and face, making sure it had not slipped and her identity was still well hidden.