by Megan Derr
"Yes, Majesty," Seth replied. "We're having the formal complaints drawn up now, for you to approve and sign tonight or tomorrow. Then they will be escorted home under heavy guard—and preferably noble escort. As much as I would love to disrespect the whole lot of them, we dare not risk disrespecting the countries themselves since they may yet support us and punish the transgressors. Nobody wants a war, except maybe our greedy neighbors to the north. Havarin can afford to play at war whenever it wants, but even they must know they've gone too far this time."
"Let us hope," Cenk added. "I do not know if he will be willing, having only just returned, but I strongly recommend that you consider sending Prince Altan to accompany the Havarin delegates. It will take royal force to muscle Havarin into doing what is right, especially when they'll be in their own domain and hold most of the power."
Euren laughed. "I have barely seen Altan since his return, but my impression is that he's not changed much in all these years, save to become a much stronger, more capable version of himself. I think if anyone can stand against Havarin, it is him. I will speak with Altan and Ihsan when they return."
Cenk and Seth smiled briefly at her. It would be nice, when everything had settled down and was peaceful again, simply to have dinner with them. Be comrades and friends first. She returned their smiles then accepted another sip of wine.
A knock came at the door, and Meltem pulled it open. She stepped back as Fatih strode in, followed by his guards, two each to the remaining four councilors: Lord Galal, Councilor of Foreign Affairs and Head of the Council; Lord Jareth, Councilor of Trade; Lady Shari, Councilor of the Navy; and Lady Yuma, Councilor of Salla Province.
It was a powerful group to be colluding. The royal province, the navy, trade, and foreign affairs… The perfect group to help arrange and maintain an illegal trade ring. It made Euren sick, made it hard to keep her seat and act like a queen instead of pulling her knives and ending their lives right then and there.
She pointedly looked away as they were all brought in, reading over her papers once more.
Someone cried out, pained and alarmed. Euren's head snapped up, rage pouring through her when she saw Lord Galal roughly grab Meltem and press a bloody knife to her throat. Why was he free of his chains? Where had the blood come from? It didn't look like Meltem's.
The answer came as Fatih stood. He looked at her, nodding slightly. Relief rushed through her fast enough to leave her momentarily dizzy. Then it was replaced by fresh anger. "Secure the rest of the councilors!" Euren snarled. "Councilors, you will behave, or I will order your legs broken."
Shari, Jareth, and Yuma all went immediately still, let the guards they'd been struggling against have them, going with quiet grunts as they were kicked or shoved to the floor.
Fatih pushed to his feet, one hand over the wound in his side. "Thankfully for me, he's not very good with that dagger. How did he get free?"
"I don't know, Captain," said one of the other guards. "We didn't have a key on us and he was secure when we took him out of his cell."
Fatih grunted, eyes never leaving Galal, who still stood in front of the closed doors, back to them, blade pressed hard enough to Meltem's throat to draw a thin trickle of blood. "Give me my freedom or the savage dies."
Meltem looked annoyed more than anything. She looked at Euren, a gleam in her eye. "Majesty?"
Meeting the gleam with a small, hard smile, Euren replied, "I want him alive."
Giving the barest of nods, seemingly unbothered by the knife and her bleeding throat, Meltem flicked the wrist of her free hand, then lifted and did something to the back of his hand. Galal made a choked noise and dropped the dagger. He stumbled back, struck the door—then fell over like a glass pushed off a table.
Meltem stepped away from him and pulled off the scarf wrapped around her hair to press to her throat. "That should put him down for at least an hour."
Euren started to run to her—and was yanked back by Canan. "Let me go!"
"No, you're staying right here until we know for certain everything is actually safe," Canan said. "Sit down, Majesty."
Euren tamped down the angry reply in her throat, conceding the point and waiting impatiently as guards came in and put Galal in new chains, this time on his ankles as well as his wrists. They also added ankle chains to the other councilors, and remained with them after dragging them over to the table.
Canna kissed the back of Euren's hand, then let her go.
Barely resisting the urge to run, Euren crossed the room and immediately pulled away the scarf Meltem still held pressed to her throat. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, my queen," Meltem said with a smile, fingers fluttering whisper-light over the back of her hand for the barest moment. For all its briefness, the touch burned. "I've been in situations much more dire."
"I see." Euren smiled. "I'm glad you're all right, and that was very well done, whatever you did."
"What did you do?" Fatih asked then shook his head. "I am so very sorry that we lapsed so and you were hurt because of it."
"You have no reason to be sorry, please. I do wonder where he got the knife." Meltem gave a small grin. "As to what I did, we are not called Cobra just because we like them well enough to tattoo ourselves in honor of them. We harvest their poison to be put to various uses. Not as much as we used to; Cobra does not enjoy playing with venom nearly as much as Wasp and Spider." Her lips curled as she spoke of the Tribes—probably not allies, then. "I used a special needle filled with cobra venom. Different needles have different strengths, and they must be handled with extreme care. I never carry any of the fatal needles, but Emre does."
Euren shook her head. "I am starting to see where Ihsan came by his love for his poisoned daggers. Between Cobra and Kitt, we should be grateful he did not decide to poison the whole palace and start fresh." She looked at Galal, being held by a pair of guards nearby. Turning to her father, she asked, "Where do you think he got the dagger? That's the kind issued to the guards."
"Probably bribed a guard." Fatih sighed. "More people to weed out and get rid of. My apologies again, Your Majesty, Lady Meltem." He motioned to the guards who had been escorting Galal, one of whom had been cut by the dagger, though like Fatih the wound was minor. The other had a black eye and was favoring his right shoulder. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, Captain," the men chorused. "We apologize for failing to keep proper hold of him."
"The only one who needs to be sorry is Galal, and I think we all know that is a lost cause." Euren shook her head. She'd only looked down for a moment. How had so much happened so quickly? "I had no idea Galal could move so fast."
"I imagine fear of death can spur even the most ancient person to move with youthful speed," Cenk said wryly. He looked at each of the other councilors. "Does anybody else want to make a break for their freedom? Injure the queen's father and close friend? Or are you finally finished with being rampantly stupid?"
They remained silent, Shari and Jareth stone-faced, Yuma looking close to tears. Euren was not happy to be ordering her execution, but she wasn't exactly feeling sorry for the woman either. If they were going to treat people like goods to be bought and sold, they deserved exactly what they were getting. "Captain, you're free to go. You and your men go see to your injuries."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Fatih gave quiet orders to the injured guards, who bowed and slipped away. He then motioned for the two men holding Galal to take him away. "Lock him up in the dark." He removed a key from his belt and gave it to them. "Bring that directly to me when you're done, and I want it done quickly. Understood?"
The guards nodded and bowed, then dragged Galal away, closing the doors behind them.
Euren lightly touched Meltem's arm, exchanged a silent look, and this time she thought maybe it was not wishful thinking that echoed the yearning in her eyes. "Are you sure you are well?"
"Yes, my queen." Meltem smiled and touched her hand, then withdrew and returned to the door.
Euren shifted her at
tention to her father. "I believe you were ordered to get that arm treated."
"So I shall, Your Majesty—after this meeting is at an end and the prisoners are once more safely locked away."
"As you wish, Captain, and thank you for your flawless devotion." Fatih bowed, and Euren turned away before she gave in to an urge to fuss further, hug him tightly. She was so very tired of seeing the people she loved get hurt.
Resuming her seat, she slapped her hands on the table. "I've had enough, and the recent actions of your cohort—"
"We had nothing to do with him!" Lady Sheri snarled.
Euren looked at her, calling up every last drop of imperiousness that Asli and Gulden had trained into her, made her practice over and over, because it was always useful to know how to intimidate someone with just a look. Sheri glared right back, eyes bright with anger, mouth pinched. Fool. "You chose not only to participate in slavery, but actively control and profit from it. You willingly cooperated with a country that is just this side of being an enemy to sell our people into sexual slavery. You are party to the kidnaping of the Harem Master, Lord Sabah, and the Divine alone knows how many others have suffered by your actions, and would have suffered had you continued unchecked. You are guilty of so many crimes you deserve to be executed thrice over. Lucky for you that can only be done once—but make no mistake, it is going to happen."
All the councilors looked up at her then, shock rippling across their faces. "You cannot—"
"I am thoroughly sick of people talking before I grant them permissions," Euren cut in. "I can and I will, Lord Jareth. Challenge me again and you will not enjoy what comes before you're permitted to die."
He bowed his head but said nothing.
Hands rested on her thighs, heavy, steadying, just barely keeping back the trembling and tears that threatened to rise up and overwhelm her. "Councilors, I am not going to waste any more of the day on this matter. On you. My time is better spent cleaning up your messes. Your bloodlines are stripped of rank, fortune, and all holdings. Your families are not permitted to enter the bounds of the Salla Province for this and the next two generations, and those permitted once more to touch royal grounds will visit the throne to be certain of their permission before they do anything else. Should anyone violate this law, they will be summarily banished from Tavamara for life. As for you four…" She took a sip of wine, then finally said, "Death by hanging, public execution in the city. You have betrayed the kingdom that trusted you, betrayed the people you promised to protect. Therefore you will die before them, grant them the peace of knowing you have suffered and died for your crimes."
"Your Majesty…" Yuma swallowed, tears falling down her cheeks. "We have committed great wrongs, but give us a chance to right them. What does death accomplish?"
"Peace," Euren said flatly. "What could you possibly do to make amends for trying to turn the people of Tavamara into slaves? And that is only the greatest of your crimes. Do you want me to read the whole list? You believe that people can be treated like goods, there is nothing you can do to make amends for that. No, you do not deserve mercy. You have five days to make your peace with the Divine; perhaps you will earn their mercy. Guards, remove them from my sight."
The councilors screamed protests and pleas as they were hauled away, high and desperate and broken by tears, but Euren stared stonily at them until the doors closed with an echoing thud. Euren dropped her trembling hands to her lap. "I need to be alone, Steward, Lady Seth, forgive me, please."
"There is nothing to forgive, Your Majesty," Cenk said quietly. She heard the rustle of papers, the soft swish of fabric, then their footsteps, and the opening and closing of the door.
"Gone," Canan said quietly, sounding close to tears herself. "Even your father, though he was reluctant."
Euren buried her face in her hands and cried. She had killed men before, several of them. Death was not a stranger. But having to be so cold, so indifferent, so damned callous as she told people they were going to die, to order a person to pull the lever that would drop them—order a spectacle be made of it… She cried harder, went immediately when Gulden dragged her into a hug, buried her head in the hollow of Gulden's throat.
"I'm sorry," Asli said quietly, as she and Canan stroked Euren's back.
"Majesty." The soft, hesitantly spoken word drew Euren's attention.
Slowly drawing back, wiping at her eyes, Euren turned to look at Meltem, who had knelt just out of reach of them, close but carefully not intruding. As though she could. Meltem smiled, gentle and full of understanding. "I am third in line to take command of Cobra should anything ever happen to my brother or father, may the Lady of the Sands prevent such tragedies. It means many hard decisions are left to me in the field. Ordering someone's death never grows easier, never grows more comfortable… but it is a weapon of power. Like any weapon, you should know it well, keep it close, but you control it. You do not need to let it control you."
Euren sniffled, nodded, and wiped away a last few tears. She managed a shaky smile. "Thank you, Meltem. It has helped me a great deal to have you here with me." Discarding propriety, she closed the distance between them and hugged Meltem tightly, pretended not to notice the whisper-soft kiss pressed to the side of her head.
It was too soon, and the wrong time, to ask… But one day soon she could ask. That was enough.
Drawing back, Euren accepted the handkerchief that Canan held out and cleaned her face. "What is next on my agenda?"
"I vote we use the secret passages to return to your room," Asli said. "Meltem can tell your father and the others that you've gone. Once you've rested, I suggest you have dinner in the public banquet hall. Let people see you, let them wonder what is going on. Hopefully Ihsan and the others will return soon. I do not like that it is already midafternoon and they still are not returned."
"I'm sure they'll be back soon," Euren said. She hugged Meltem again, then rose and handed back the handkerchief. "Let's go, then. Tell Cenk and Seth that I would appreciate their company at dinner, but they are under no obligation."
Meltem bowed, offering a last, fleeting smile before she headed toward the doors while Asli and the others led Euren toward the secret passage hidden behind an enormous painting of an early queen of Tavamara.
Nineteen
Demir was more exhausted than he could ever remember being. Hours after they'd been taken from the palace, the drug used to knock them out still had him fuzzy at the edges. It didn't help that every hour—it felt like every hour, anyway—the mercenaries moved them to a new location. When he'd first woken up, he and Sabah had been in a stable. They'd been stuffed in barrels, in crates, shoved under piles of hay on a rickety, squeaky cart and told that if they made a sound they wouldn't like the consequences. They'd been locked in storerooms, tied up and left in old, dusty offices, crammed into a wine cellar, and their most recent stop was another stable. An old stable, long fallen out of use and reeking of the critters that had made it a home.
He'd lost track of how long ago they'd been taken, though it had obviously been several hours. Possibly the better part of a day. To judge by the cool air and the lack of light, it was early evening.
Sabah shifted slightly where he lay with his head in Demir's lap, recovering from the motion sickness induced by their last stint in the squeaky cart. Outside the stable, Demir could hear at least six different voices, the rattle of swords, the creak of leather armor, and the stomp of boots. Mercenaries, according to Sabah, and not the cheap kind.
He hadn't said anything else about them, but Demir wasn't a fool: if Sabah had been alone, he could have escaped. Mercenaries, even good ones, would not be an impossible obstacle for Ihsan or any of his men.
But Demir had never been trained to fight. He was trained to be the finest concubine in the country; that left little room for even the most basic martial training. Sabah couldn't fight his way out and protect Demir at the same time, and the mercenaries would go straight for the weak point.
Demir had always
been proud of what he was, but right then he wished he were at least moderately useful in other ways. But all his skills were in pleasure. Worse, it was those very skills that had gotten them into this predicament to start.
He still didn't understand why. Anyone could do what he did. He wasn't born with any special talent; it had all been trained into him. Concubines could come from literally any life, and it took only months to train them to adequate levels. Years of practice would bring them to his level. If they wanted the skills of Tavamara's concubines so badly, why not pay for them? If they could sell him for a fortune, could they not sell his skills? Why must it all be done illegally? Why had so many people been killed or hurt for something so trivial? He would never understand foreigners. He understood even less those Tavamarans who sided against their own to profit from them. Demir sighed.
"We'll find a way out of this mess."
"I have no doubt of that," Demir replied quietly. "I simply do not understand why we are in it at all. Nothing about me is valuable enough to warrant so much trouble—so much death."
"Oh, I think kings would surrender a great deal for you," Sabah replied. "But it's not the sexual aspect of the concubines that Havarin ultimately seeks, I think. Make no mistake, the slave trading itself would be lucrative enough to warrant a multitude of murders in the minds of many. Havarin, though… Havarin's greatest skill is patience. Nobody plays a long game better than the Holy Empire of Havarin. There is something about you, and concubines in general, that is infinitely more valuable to Havarin than your skills as concubines."
Demir frowned, puzzled over it, but finally shook his head.
Sabah gave a soft laugh. "Secrets, darling Harem Master. You know a great many valuable secrets. How many people trust you with information they'll share with no one else? How much information is fed to you, on purpose or unwittingly, by your concubines? What do you overhear from people who never really notice the concubines? What would it be worth to Havarin to have such valuable ears doing their bidding? The sex trade is valuable, but it becomes priceless when used as a road to undermining the only country in the world that can one hundred percent hold its own with Havarin."
