The Harem Master

by Megan Derr

  Ihsan opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut again. He shook his head and said, "I am eternally in your debt, and Captain Fatih's, for what you both have managed to do. How did you obtain a key to the secret passages?"

  "You probably don't want to know, Highness," Demir said quietly. "Your father is careless."

  "Yes, he is." Ihsan gestured. "Thank you again for the information, Lord Demir. If Lord Bulut continues to bother you, inform me at once. I was going to wait until I was king to remove him, but I will press the matter now if I must."

  Next to Demir, Kitt shifted as though restless. Demir turned to look at him, caught the lack of expression on his normally vibrant face. Something about him… he was good, very good, at appearing to be light-hearted and carefree, but Demir had spent his life around liars and deceivers. Kitt had shadows in his eyes, moved like a man trained go about quietly and unnoticed. What was Kitt hiding?

  But that was a problem for another day, and he might be letting his imagination run away with him anyway. "I am always happy to serve, Highness. If you've no further need of me…"

  "You're free to go. We'll see you at the banquet tonight."

  "Yes, Highness."

  "I hope the rest of your day is better than it has been so far."

  Demir rose to his feet, then bowed low. "Thank you, Highness. The very same to you."

  It was much easier to breathe when he was back in the hallway. A man twelve years his junior should not make him feel like a fumbling boy, but Ihsan did so anyway. Merciful Divine save him from royalty.

  At least Ihsan knew Zehra was alive. More selfishly, Demir was happy to be back in Prince Ihsan's good graces. He could barely manage the displeasure of one royal. And Merciful Divine, he was a fool, because that brief encounter, the way Ihsan had taken his side regarding Bulut and approved of what Demir and Fatih were doing.

  Demir was right back to fervently hoping that Ihsan might truly be the ally they'd been desperately needing for so long. Drawing a deep breath, he let it out slowly, then walked quickly through the halls of the palace, eyes sweeping constantly for Bulut. Mercifully, he reached the pavilion without further incident.

  The Sunburst Pavilion brimmed with activity as servants bustled back and forth in a hurry to have everything ready on time. As crown prince, Ihsan should have been given a proper welcome the day after his arrival, but nothing could be done without the king's permission, and he had very pointedly been slow to give it.

  Even this celebration was not all it should be, but Ihsan had not seemed perturbed when he'd acknowledged it. On the other hand, for the past three days Ihsan had been pushing himself hard trying to relearn all he had missed the past five years. A daunting task, to say the least, and further hindered by an angry council, a scheming Steward, and a volatile king. It did not help matters at all that none of those parties liked to communicate with each other.

  Whatever happened with that mess, Demir just hoped no more harm came to his charges. He was tired of concubines dying because they were the easiest target for Kagan's anger. He was despondent that nobody else seemed to care until it was their son who died.

  Banishing the gloomy thoughts, Demir put his full attention on the pavilion. All seemed to be proceeding accordingly, and they had left the necessary amount of extra space between the tables and the performance area.

  It wasn't often they got to perform outside; normally it was a cause for excitement. Demir had only been dreading it, for who wanted to perform for someone who despised them? But after the surprisingly positive meeting with Ihsan, a small bit of excitement flickered to life.

  He was stirred from his thoughts as a handsome, unassuming man approached and bowed his head. "Lord Demir, does all meet with your satisfaction?"

  Demir bowed his own head in reply. "Yes, Master Riya. I thank you for accommodating us."

  "Always an honor," Riya demurred. He had been Master of the Grounds for twelve years, since his predecessor had died early and unexpectedly of a bad heart. He was only a year older than Demir, and they had been friends as boys, though they'd drifted apart as their duties called them in different directions. "I'm looking forward to the performance, my lord. It's been a long time since we've seen a fire dance."

  "Not since my mother left." Demir smiled faintly. "Hopefully I live up to her memory." Hopefully the lack of time to practice would not humiliate him and therefore the harem and His Majesty. When the harem ran as it should, he had personal time in which to practice the performances expected of him at important functions. Under Kagan, he only managed to practice by foregoing sleep. But there was nothing he could do about it except his best, so better not to dwell. Worrying himself to death guaranteed failure.

  Riya laughed. "If I recall, my lord, you quickly outpaced your mother's lessons, to her distress and the detriment of your eyebrows."

  "You recall correctly," Demir said, provoking another laugh. "I…" he paused as he saw a cloud pass over Riya's face, pushing out the levity that had filled it. "What is wrong?" he asked quietly, then shook his head when the answer provided itself by way of several loud voices speaking in rapid, jagged-edged words, growing louder as a group of men stepped out of the palace.

  Demir recognized the voices of the ambassadors from Hadge, Gollen, and Havarin. They were all speaking in Havarian, a coarse, ugly language Demir had loathed learning. He dismissed Riya with a nod toward a cluster of servants awaiting Riya's attention. Smiling stiffly, he approached the foreigners and bowed. "My lords, I hope the day is treating you well."

  They chuckled in that slimy way of theirs, and he did not need to glance up to know they were exchanging leering looks they believed to be subtle. As though Demir was too stupid to know when crude foreigners gawked at him like a prize cut of meat in the market. "It's a good day," replied Lord Jove, the Ambassador of Havarin. "How are you, Lord Demir?"

  "Well, thank you, my lord. Have you come to sneak a look at tonight's performance?"

  "I've heard it is going to be impressive." He scratched idly at his heavy, gray-touched brown beard. "Quite the return for a prince who abandoned his people."

  Demir kept his head bowed. "His Highness never abandoned Tavamara; he left the palace to protect us. We are happy to have him home. The kingdom always rests easier when the heir is by the king's side. Surely it is not so different in your kingdoms?"

  They laughed, but did not answer the question. Demir smiled politely and bowed again. "If you will excuse me, my lords." He strode past them, headed for the doors, but stepped behind the high trellises covered in ivy and white flowers instead and listened.

  "That one needs the arrogance fucked out of him. I don't understand why a man who babysits whores all day gets to be called lord."

  "Let it go, Jove. I doubt the king would fuss if you fucked one of the whores, but you touch that one and he will remove your head."

  "I'm not entirely stupid, Tessel. I'm just saying that it's obvious he knows he is untouchable. If he belonged to me that nonsense would be beaten right out of him."

  "I'd rather put him to work teaching his exotic arts to other whores and keep the profits pouring in," Tessel replied. "Fucking him would certainly be a bonus."

  The third man sighed. "Stop thinking with your cocks and switch back to your brains."

  "There's nothing we can do until we know how the wind blows with Prince Ihsan. I wish he had stayed dead."

  "Don't we all. Come on, let's go down to the harbor. I want some real food before I must endure another tiresome banquet of snacks and ridiculous Tavamaran spirits."

  The conversation turned to what constituted good food after that, and Demir slipped hastily away through a servant door before they walked past the trellises and saw him.

  What were they waiting on until they could take Ihsan's measure? If they thought Ihsan would condone mistreatment of the concubines…

  His lip curled as he recalled their talk. Exotic arts. Did they not know how to fuck where they came that they thought it was exotic? H
e wasn't exotic; he was a teacher and protector. Surely that was not so strange a concept just because his charges were concubines. Why were most foreigners so stupid?

  His traitorous mind spun with thoughts of Kitt—brash, bold, but sweet, no matter what his secrets.

  Demir hoped Ihsan had enough power to make the council listen. But Ihsan had been gone a long time, and one man would not be enough to overcome Kagan, Bulut, and the council, especially when it was clear that Bulut and the council were happier listening to foreigners than their monarchs.

  Slipping out of the servants halls, Demir rounded the corner to a main hall and from there quickly returned to the harem hall. But when he reached it, the hall was far too quiet. Demir looked at the guards. "What's wrong?"

  "His Majesty," one the guards replied. "He struck Maru, broke his nose. The healer is tending him, but…"

  Demir immediately headed down the hall where Kagan's concubines lived. A cluster of them stood in and around the doorway to the room that Maru and his twin brother Haru shared. They scattered like birds when they saw him, and in much the same fashion would return once he was in the room.

  The healer, Sule, looked up when he heard the door slide shut. His face was set in grim lines. "Lord Demir. I've treated his nose and gave both him and his brother a mild sedative. They were quite distraught."

  "Why?"

  "I do not know the details, but His Majesty was extremely angry about whatever happened in his office. He struck Haru, left his face bruised. Maru came to his brother's defense and that is when His Majesty really lost control and broke his nose. Apparently His Majesty was threatening to punish the entire harem, though I believe somebody calmed him down and convinced him to forget the notion." But the long look he gave Demir said he did not think that would actually happen.

  Damn it. If the whole of the harem was to be punished, that included him—and if he was too severely injured by whatever Kagan did to him, it would be that much harder to keep protecting them.

  Merciful Divine, he would like everything to stop going wrong for one day. He would settle for one hour. If he truly was to be thrown out when the harems were abolished, at least there would be nothing to press down upon him so heavily he felt like he was being suffocated. At least he would not spend every day of his life afraid for himself and dozens of others.

  He dismissed the healer with a gesture to the door, then took his seat on a cushion beside the low bed on which Haru and Maru slept. Maru groaned quietly, moved restlessly, and whimpered when that jarred something in his poor nose. The healer had reset it and packed it with gauze, but time was the only real cure. The bruises around his eyes were already forming; it would be days before he would be fit to leave the harem hall again.

  Unfortunate, since Haru and Maru were well-favored by Kagan. If they had wound up the target of his anger… Demir dared not think about what he would do to the others. They had just lost Nur, had lost three others that month alone. Who else must die before somebody stood up to Kagan?

  He was somebody, but he had no power to remove a king. The best he could do was kill one. But what did he know about killing a man? He had been trained in pleasure. Even what he knew of pain was in how to use it on those who enjoyed it.

  "Lord Dem…"

  "Shh," Demir said, shifting his gaze to Haru even as he gently combed through Maru's hair so he would still and sleep more soundly. "Rest."

  "M'fine." Haru slowly sat up, wincing slightly and gently touching his fingertips to his swollen face. "I didn't need the sedative; the healer is over cautious, though his care is appreciated. Wanted to tell you…" He broke off with a yawn and seemed for a moment to drift off back to sleep.

  Shaking himself, Haru snapped his eyes open and said, "His Majesty got into an argument with Lord Galal."

  Lord Galal was Councilor of Foreign Affairs and head of the council. That position was not inherited, but his father and grandfather had held the position for most of their lives, and only one other had taken up the role before Galal claimed it. He had held it for the past twenty years. Of all the council, he was the most dangerous, the most willing to accept change. If he pushed for the abolishment of the harems, then it would most likely be done. "Why were they arguing?"

  "He was trying to convince His Majesty to marry again. Lord Galal said that people are unlikely to take well to Prince Ihsan after he was gone so long and has come back… I do not care to repeat unkind words, my lord."

  "You do not need to," Demir said quietly. "I can guess them. So they are pushing for His Majesty to remarry and produce new heirs."

  Haru nodded. "Yes, only His Majesty did not care for any of Lord Galal's suggestions. The argument got out of control. I do not think he knew what he was saying at the end. But…"

  "What is it?"

  After another long moment of hesitation, stroking the subtle vine and flower pattern in the fabric of his soft, shimmery pants, Haru said, "His Majesty never defended His Highness. He seemed pleased, in fact, that nobody was going to like Ihsan or accept him as king. I do not understand, my lord. Is it not a good thing that Prince Ihsan is not dead?"

  "Politics make very little sense unless you are a politician," Demir said with a crooked smile. "Be grateful they make no sense to you. Rest, Haru. You and your brother are off duty until you are both fully recovered." He leaned over Maru and kissed Haru's unmarred cheek. "I am sorry you were hurt."

  Haru shrugged. "Be careful, Lord Demir."

  "I will do my best." He waited until Haru fell asleep, then rose smoothly to his feet and returned to the entrance of the harem hall. Slipping into his office, he quickly wrote a note, then folded and sealed it. Returning to the entrance hall, he beckoned one of the guards close. "Deliver this to Prince Ihsan. Wait for a reply unless he bids you otherwise."

  The guard bowed and tucked the note into his sash, then departed with near-silent footsteps. Demir bid a second guard see that wine and a late lunch were brought, then went to the practice hall to prepare for his performance that night.

  Five

  "Ihsan."

  Ihsan looked up from the papers he was reading at the sound of Haluk saying his name, but his irritation at being interrupted dropped away when he saw a harem guard kneeling several paces away from the table. When had someone knocked on the door? "What brings you to see me?"

  "A message from Lord Demir, Your Highness," the guard replied. He pulled a folded slip of paper from his red sash and held it out. Haluk took it, walked over to Ihsan, and gave it to him.

  Unfolding the note, Ihsan quickly read the brief message:

  With deepest regrets, Your Highness, I must cancel our appointment this afternoon in order to prepare for your banquet this evening. If it pleases Your Highness, I am more than happy to visit you later tonight after the banquet.

  It was signed with the stylized orchid that was the crest of the harem masters. Hmmm. Ihsan folded the note and tapped it against his lips. "Tell Lord Demir that the change in appointment is acceptable, and I will meet with him in the Jeweled Gardens an hour after the banquet concludes."

  The guard bowed so his head just barely touched the floor, then sat up slowly. "Yes, Your Highness." At Ihsan's nod, he stood and left.

  Ihsan handed the note to Sabah, gesturing for Haluk and Kitt to join them at the table. "Something is wrong. Lord Demir wants to meet with me tonight. We are all of us attending the banquet; it will not look strange if I take the whole of my harem to the Jeweled Gardens tonight after the banquet. But I wonder what I have missed while I have spent most of my day shut in going through all these damned papers." He sighed. "It troubles me greatly that the royal finances are in such disarray. Why was I in such a hurry to return home to this?"

  "It's still less arduous than war," Sabah replied. "If only barely."

  "I'm not entirely convinced of that," Ihsan said as he picked his papers up again. "I wish the banquet was not happening."

  Kitt gave a soft snort. "Yes, so tiresome to attend a party in your honor
."

  "That is not what I meant," Ihsan said. "I am worried about what might happen. This place has become a pit of vipers, and they are none too happy that I've returned."

  Sabah took a sip of water from the pale blue glass at his elbow. "Roughly half the council has eligible or nearly eligible daughters. They have probably been placing their pieces carefully ever since your brother was exiled. With you and your brother gone and your sister dead, all new opportunities presented themselves… Now you've neatly ruined all those ambitions. I am worried about tonight, too."

  "It's peculiar being on this side of matters," Kitt said, stealing the wine that Ihsan had left languishing. "Executing royalty is always good money if you have the patience and are willing to take the risks." He shrugged when they all gave him looks. "I'm just saying, it's strange not being the assassin for once. On the bright side, I can probably help determine how they will try to kill you."

  Haluk stole the dish from Kitt and drained the last sip of wine. Picking up the carafe, he refilled it and took another sip, then held the dish out to Kitt. "The Sunburst Pavilion is at the south edge of the palace, facing the sea. It used to be open so that anyone on it could look upon the sea, but the wall was built two generations ago after a noblewoman and her two children were assassinated. Below it are the wine cellars and access to some of the pipework that runs through the palace. There is one main set of double doors and two servant doors: one leads to the kitchens, the second leads to various other store rooms and the entrance to the servant quarters. Any attack will come from the wall, the doors, or the roof; the guards have accounted for all of those."

  "Guards at the wall are easy to bypass or remove quietly, especially about midway through the entertainment," Kitt said. "Everyone will be drunk, the guards will begin to grow bored, and it will be dark. So much noise and shadow, it would be easy to slip to the top of the wall, use an arrow or a poisoned dart. I'd be back over the wall before anyone could catch me. Alternately, it wouldn't be hard for a servant to get close."