Goddess (9 page)

She knew Lazar could see the perfect shape of her breasts, her dark nipples chafing at the gauze of her near-translucent linen chemise. If not for its loose cut, her body would be naked to him. But she’d taken the added precaution of unfastening the front of her tunic so Lazar could clearly view her rounded flesh, the inviting cleavage, the pulse at her throat. She was sure that at this close proximity to such an invitation any man would be victim to his own body’s betrayal, including the man of ice. And she was right. Herezah watched with untold delight the unmistakeable swell beneath Lazar’s loose garments. She thrilled to the knowledge that she had finally won a response from him—and best of all, Lazar was well enough to be seduced and she was close enough to take advantage of him.

This was the greatest risk she had taken since becoming Valide. The killing of the heirs, the persecution of Ana, the cunning and deception of so many years in the harem; all of it amounted to nought in comparison to this moment when Herezah, Valide Zara of Percheron, bared herself to the one person who could break the heart she had protected for nearly two decades. She moved her hand and placed it on that swell of his body,
felt the answering throb beneath her fingertips and could have wept.

Instead, she pressed her luck still further. ‘Even the Elim have left us alone. We are free to make our own choice. No-one owns us, Lazar…and what’s more, no-one cares.’ Her voice was husky, sensual, and when he couldn’t react negatively to her touch she took a further chance. ‘Thank me, Lazar, in the only way I’ll accept.’

Herezah bent her head and placed her lips against his. She began tentatively, exploring his mouth gently. She tasted his reluctance; his lips were politely soft but unresponsive. Not to be deterred, she risked everything, gently squeezing the hand that was still nestled quietly in his lap. And won the response she’d dreamed—Herezah felt the instant response in her palm and it was suddenly mirrored by the hungry yearning from his mouth. She knew any woman could probably achieve a similar reaction—couldn’t convince herself otherwise—but nevertheless she felt breathless at the knowledge that Lazar was finally beneath her. Determined not to shatter this fragile moment she began working her fingers, working her tongue.

Lazar groaned and Herezah celebrated inwardly.

At last he was hers.

Although they had been preparing for this moment Boaz’s expression was still one of undisguised shock.

‘Anchored off the Isles of Plenty?’ he repeated.

Ghassal, the Spur’s deputy, bowed. ‘Yes, Majesty. We count more than thirty war galleys, more still arriving. One flies the royal pennon of Galinsea.’

‘Falza is here?’ Boaz asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

‘We do not know, Majesty. It could be one of the sons, but either way, Galinsean royalty is near to our waters. The Grand Vizier has given orders that I am personally to fetch you.’

‘We’re to make arrangements to meet with the royal, is that the plan?’

‘I am to take you on the barge.’

‘Barge?’ Boaz frowned.

‘We go by river upstream, he says. A team of Elim will accompany you and—’

‘Ghassal!’

‘Majesty,’ the man said, suddenly kneeling, arrested by the tone in his ruler’s voice.

‘Don’t you ever dare to presume that I do as the Grand Vizier bids. I am your Zar. You will follow my orders, or your Spur’s, not Tariq’s.’

‘Highness, I—’

‘You are a good man, Ghassal, and come highly recommended by the Spur, whose judgement I trust above any other man I know. Now live up to his expectations and mine.’

The soldier adopted a chastened expression. ‘Forgive me, my Zar. How can I serve you, Highness?’

‘We must avoid confrontation as best we can—extend a hand of friendship, but not flee. That’s an open invitation for the Galinseans to sack the city. I don’t plan to fight them but fight them I will if we are cornered. In the meantime we will use every diplomatic weapon we can. Now, I shall be here to face King Falza whenever he is ready to enter our bay. He is permitted to bring only the royal galleon into the harbour.’

‘For now they are not coming closer but simply biding their time, Highness, it seems.’

‘They have intentionally made their presence known. They likely await our first move.’

‘What should we do?’

‘Nothing yet. I must speak with Lazar. Await my orders and tell the Grand Vizier I wish to see him. He is to await my pleasure.’

The soldier bowed deeply as the Zar swept past him, calling for Bin. ‘Tell the Grand Master Eunuch I shall be visiting the Spur, whom I assume is in the company of the Valide.’

Lazar was gripped in Herezah’s fist. She pulled back from his mouth, her fingers rhythmically working, not allowing his helpless need for relief to wane. ‘Why waste this?’ she said, impressed.

‘Herezah, don’t, please. I beg you.’ His expression was one of pain and he was breathing shallowly, vainly trying to control his own lust.

‘I do enjoy it when you beg anything of me,’ she murmured, her hand moving faster. ‘I want you inside me, Lazar.’

‘I…I…’ He looked lost, almost panicked.

Neither had heard the swish of the silks but both smelled sandalwood overlayed with the fragrance of violets.

‘Valide, I—’ Salmeo’s words were cut off and a ghastly silence ensued as Herezah jumped back as if burned.

‘Oh,’ Salmeo tittered, taking in the scene at once. ‘Oh my, forgive my interruption, Majesty. And Spur, my sincere apologies. I really hadn’t expected you to be quite this…um, recovered,’ he lisped.

‘Salmeo, how dare you just walk into the Spur’s chamber,’ Herezah spat. ‘This is a private room and you will announce yourself in future.’ She noticed Lazar had not moved. His eyes were closed, his erection wilting and this only served to intensify the fury she felt at being denied what had been rightfully hers.

Her chest heaved with the angry words. ‘What the Spur and I choose to do—’

Lazar’s voice cut across her. ‘We do not need this complication,’ he said to her alone, and Herezah knew he was being kind, knew what he was truly saying was that he didn’t need her. She could see the relief in his eyes now that they were open. He was grateful for the interruption.

‘Salmeo, you will suffer for this,’ she warned, unable to rein back her despair. Nothing, save the
death of Boaz, could have upset her more than what had just occurred.

The Grand Master Eunuch bowed, and adopted a virtuous expression. ‘I think you’ll both ultimately thank me for this intrusion—even though it seems so painful to you at this moment. I came to tell you that Zar Boaz is but moments away. He wishes to speak with the Spur and anticipated that you, Valide, would be with him. It would have been, um…’ He paused deliberately, searching for the right word as the shock of what could have happened had the Zar discovered them registered with Herezah. ‘Let’s just say it might have been indelicate to have been found by the Zar in the same position I found you both. I suggest you re-veil yourself, Valide, or risk the harem’s wrath, let alone that of your Zar. I shall overlook it this time, put it down to your both still being traumatised from your experiences in the desert.’ He grinned angelically, his tongue flicking between the gap in his teeth.

Herezah hated him.

Lazar stood, fully composed again. His expression gave the impression of a gathering storm.

‘Do not rebuke Her Majesty in my presence again, Salmeo. If you have something to say to her, say it in private. If you insult Her Majesty again in front of me I shall draw my sword against you. Now leave, Eunuch. I’m going to take a cool bath. Please excuse me, Valide,’ he
said, bowing softly to Herezah and striding to the connecting chamber, throwing off his shirt as he did so.

Herezah just had time to glimpse his torn back, a reminder of what she had helped perpetrate on this man she adored. She couldn’t decide in this moment of distress whether the recent intimacy with Lazar meant more to her than his referring to her as Majesty for the first time in their lives and his thrilling support for her. A year ago she was sure he would have drowned himself in the Faranel before he would take her side in any matter. Now he offered to kill for her. She felt her desire for him increase just thinking about it. Hurriedly she rearranged her veil, straightened her clothes and began folding the blanket that had been tossed aside.

‘Go, Salmeo. We shall discuss this later,’ she said, her own composure regained and not a moment too soon.

Boaz entered, talking over his shoulder to Bin, who halted at the entrance to the Spur’s suite.

‘My lion, what a surprise,’ Herezah said, continuing her slow folding of the blanket. ‘Did you wish to speak with Lazar?’

‘Mother,’ Boaz replied, with a dutiful peck at her cheek. ‘You look flushed, are you well?’

‘Oh, I’m fine. I was just straightening out Lazar’s chamber. You men are so messy.’

‘You don’t have to do that,’ Boaz said, frowning. ‘We have servants to—’

‘No, but I like to. I know he’s getting the best care and because of it, he is now fit to do your bidding, son.’

‘Where is he?’

She shook her head absently. ‘I believe he’s bathing. I’ve only just arrived and sent that wretched Pez scampering. My Elim escorted the dwarf but should be back any moment. Would you like me to leave with Salmeo?’

He looked at the bowed bulk of the eunuch. ‘No, this involves you as much as anyone else. Salmeo, you may go.’

The great black man straightened and made to leave but not before Herezah glimpsed the triumph sparkling in his dark, cunning eyes. She closed her own momentarily, knowing the eunuch now had something very dangerous over her. When she opened her eyes, the head of the harem was gone.

Lazar emerged, tendrils of wet hair licking at his shoulders. The fresh shirt he’d donned was damp from a body that he hadn’t dried terribly well. ‘Zar Boaz,’ he bowed. ‘Valide,’ he bowed to her separately, suggesting he was seeing her for the first time this morning, for which she was grateful.

‘Sorry, Lazar, I don’t mean to disturb you,’ Herezah began, ‘I, er, sent Pez away. He was barking like a dog.’

‘I’d already asked him to leave my bathing chamber. Forgive me, Zar, for not being here to meet you.’

‘Lazar, anyone who can persuade my mother to keep house for him has my admiration. You need not apologise. She seems to be a charming farisque for you.’

‘My farisque?’ Lazar arched an eyebrow. ‘I would never level that term at the Valide. She is too generous to me.’

Herezah laughed. ‘How many farisques do you know, son, who keep house and have nails in this condition?’ she said, holding up her elegant hands.

The Zar smiled at the levity but only briefly, and Herezah realised that he was not here on a social visit.

‘Zar Boaz, for you to come unannounced must mean something urgent is afoot. How can I help?’ Lazar asked, flicking the water from his face.

‘I have grave news. The Galinsean fleet is anchored off the Isles of Plenty. They could be upon us in just a few days.’

Lazar’s brow furrowed and Herezah could tell he was instantly focused, their indiscretion and what it might mean forgotten for the time being. ‘How many ships?’

‘Thirty at least, I’m assured. The royal pennon flies atop one.’

‘Does that mean your father is here, Lazar?’ Herezah asked.

Lazar looked thoughtful but could not hide his worry. ‘Possibly. It could also be one of my brothers, of course, although…’ He didn’t finish, but his frown deepened. ‘There will be more
coming. And they will all anchor and take stock for a while.’

‘You’re sure?’ Boaz insisted.

Lazar nodded slowly. ‘Galinsea never goes to war lightly and then only if it is convinced it can win outright. It will make sure by use of numbers, an ability to wear us down by attrition if necessary.’ He shrugged. ‘They would be here understanding that they may dig in at the Isles of Plenty for several months.’

‘Months? Why? We’re at their mercy.’

‘The king is cautious. He is a master strategist, Zar Boaz. He will make no hasty move. He will weigh up every possibility. Right now he’ll be sending out spies, posting lookouts, setting up the lines of communication between where they’re anchored and Romea. He has no reason to rush, trust me. He already knows that the mere presence of the galleys will be sending the Percherese into panic.’

‘Then time is of the essence. Lazar, you cannot be found here,’ Boaz urged.

It was the Valide’s turn to frown. ‘What do you mean?’

They ignored her. Lazar shrugged softly. ‘I can be gone immediately, Highness.’

The Zar nodded. ‘The sooner the better. We are fortunate that they held off long enough for you to be well. Will you brief Ghassal before you leave? I’m planning to meet the royal ship.’

‘Let me finish dressing and I shall brief you on how best to handle King Falza.’

‘Fret not, you have schooled me well these last few weeks. I feel I know your father and his weaknesses.’

‘He has plenty. But he should not be underestimated and we are depending on my memories of two decades ago,’ Lazar reminded. ‘The one stroke of luck in having any of the royals here is that my father and brothers speak Percherese. Not well, be warned, but sufficiently that they can communicate.’

Boaz nodded. ‘That’s a relief then. Without Ana or yourself I was fretting as to how we’d achieve any sort of diplomatic conversation.’

‘Will one of you please tell me what is going on?’ Herezah asked, her eyes darting between the two of them.

Boaz turned to his mother. ‘If Lazar is found here we suspect that he will either be taken by the Galinseans or possibly killed. Either way, we cannot risk that he be discovered—not yet—although they know by now from Marius that he is alive.’

Herezah fixed Lazar with a stare. ‘So what do you plan? To flee?’

Boaz answered for the Spur. ‘No, mother. He is following my orders and will be leaving shortly for the desert. He has to find Ana, has to secure the heir of Percheron.’

‘Then I shall go with you,’ she demanded.

Both Spur and Zar shook their heads and spoke in synchrony. ‘No!’

‘Absolutely not, I forbid it,’ Boaz continued. ‘We nearly lost you once. And anyway, we need you for diplomatic reasons. I have no wife to wait upon them. You are the highest-ranking woman in the palace. I need you here.’