Odalisque (33 page)

‘My Zar, may I be candid?’

‘Please.’

Tariq sipped again. ‘I respected your father enormously but it served my purposes to behave the way I did in the past. I can’t put it any plainer than that. Your father came to his throne a grown man, quite set in his ways and with a lot of experience under his belt. I was newly appointed and I had to quietly assume my role, ingratiate myself with the right people to win their trust. That has taken years.’

Boaz couldn’t help himself. ‘Tariq, my father didn’t respect you very much. I know he didn’t like you,’ he said, more bluntly than he had intended.

‘Did you think I didn’t know this?’

‘I must say I have to wonder when I consider some of your…shall we say, affectations,’ Boaz admitted. He was confused by Tariq, mainly because he’d spent a lifetime ignoring the man, disliking him in truth, but now found himself impressed by his calm counsel and insightful comments.

‘That’s all they were, High One. Affectations. It helped me to disappear…don’t you see?’

‘No, frankly I don’t.’

‘Sometimes, Zar Boaz, people will portray themselves a specific way with the deliberate intent to shield others from their true selves.’

‘Why?’

‘Defence. Invisibility. The peacock you saw was all that you saw. You never knew behind that facade worked a shrewd mind.’

‘A modest one too,’ Boaz countered.

Tariq shrugged, sipped again, a smile at his lips. ‘I’m merely explaining it for you.’

‘So it’s all been an act?’

‘That’s perhaps exaggerating it. I have always done my work diligently—I’m sure your father never complained about that.’

‘No, not at all. In fact, I heard him say on countless occasions that as much as he disliked your presence he couldn’t fault your efforts.’

‘And the reason I climbed to the position I have,’ Tariq replied, as if this justified his behaviour.

‘Wouldn’t it have been easier to be yourself and earn respect along the way?’

‘Perhaps, but then I wouldn’t have learned as much as I have.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Zar Boaz, my presence at the palace is only part of what I do. My real job is to listen in on the streets, to hear what your people are grumbling about, their needs. I have a network of contacts to run and it has suited me to appear flamboyant and shallow because people never took me seriously. They talked around me, over me. They thought my appointment as Vizier a jest but figured I was someone who could be easily compromised.’

‘And can you be?’

At this Tariq smiled. Boaz could honestly admit that he felt he was conversing with an entirely different person.

‘Zar Boaz, I am revealing the true Tariq to you so that we start out truthfully in your reign. You are young—I don’t mean that as insult—and you need sound counsel. Your father never needed someone like me in quite the same way as you do. I am offering myself up honestly to you. I hope that we can work closely and that you’ll trust my judgement, hear my advice, include me in your decision-making.’

Boaz took several moments to consider the Vizier’s request. He wanted to be sure he chose his words carefully. ‘Vizier Tariq, until yesterday I intended to begin distancing myself entirely from you. I disliked you even more than my father did, for I didn’t even respect the role you played.’

He watched the man nod in humble acceptance of these harsh words.

‘But you have surprised me. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I feel as though I am sitting here tonight with an entirely different man.’

‘Does that mean we have a future together, Zar Boaz?’

‘That’s precisely what it means. It will not happen overnight, of course, Vizier. You must earn my trust and respect. But what I want most is for you to understand that it is me who sits the throne of Percheron and not my mother. I think
too many people are getting this around the wrong way, yourself included.’

‘You have made yourself perfectly clear, Zar Boaz. Perhaps I might begin our new relationship by organising for the guard around your kitchen?’

Boaz nodded.

‘Is there anything else I can do?’

‘Keep me informed.’

‘My Zar?’

‘I want to know everything you do. All that you learn from the streets I want shared with me. You are the one promoting this partnership, so prove it. Show me that I can trust you.’

‘And what’s in this for me, Zar Boaz?’

Boaz’s eyes flashed darkly. ‘That’s the old Vizier talking!’

‘No, Highness. The old Vizier would not have had the nerve. You’ve proven yourself to be pragmatic, so continue in that vein. Nothing in life is free, my Zar. You might think it is because of the wealth you own and the power you command, but everything comes at a cost…everything.’

‘What do you want? Riches?’

Tariq laughed. ‘No. I want the title of Grand Vizier.’

Boaz was no longer surprised. He could now see where this was leading. ‘Equal status to Salmeo.’

‘Yes, my Zar. Too long I have been treated as his inferior. I want the same privileges and freedoms he enjoys.’

Boaz nodded. If Tariq continued to impress he would not find it difficult to agree to such a request. ‘We have a bargain, then, Vizier. Earn my trust and my respect and you will earn yourself a promotion.’

‘Thank you, Zar Boaz.’ He raised his zerra. ‘To your reign, High One. I will work diligently and unrelentingly towards your goals.’

‘You do not know them yet,’ Boaz replied a little mischievously.

‘Oh, but I intend to learn them, my Zar. I shall begin by learning more about the last hours of the Spur. Is that a good beginning?’

Boaz raised his cup to the newly reinvented Vizier and the curious alliance they had made tonight. ‘To new beginnings,’ he replied and drained his wine.

And deep in the shadows someone, that neither man knew was there, grimaced.

Salmeo brooded in his chamber. Horz had been immoveable but he could sense the anger and suspicion emanating from the young Zar nonetheless. It was not directed at Horz either. It was levelled quite obviously at himself. This meant he was not free from the Spur’s blood smears just yet.

‘I am an impetuous fool,’ he murmured to himself, regretting for the umpteenth time his rage that had led to the poor decision to bring drezden into the equation of the Spur’s punishment. As it was, Shaz had done a far uglier job than even Salmeo could have imagined and it was highly likely that the Spur would have died from his injuries alone. The risk taken with the drezden, having to use others, incriminating himself, had been for naught.

It was not at all like him to act so recklessly. Now, in the calm after the storm of proceedings, he could see how careless he had been and how close he had come to ruining his life. He had thought drezden undetectable—damn the
interfering priestess! How she could have identified it was beyond him.

He needed to cover his tracks. The Head Inflictor was still away in the far north, which was convenient. His deputy had been compromised with similar threats to his family and a small parcel of land. He had been easier than Horz, who had no need for land or wealth, but of course everyone can be bought if you threaten those they love. That’s why no-one could ever compromise the Grand Master Eunuch—he loved none but himself. With Horz taking the blame, the Deputy could be kept quiet. That left only the youngster, Shaz, who might possibly know something. Presumably the lad had quailed at the job, which meant he must have asked questions of his superior. Salmeo’s agile mind thought it through. The Deputy had to tell him something and most likely would have ordered him to do as he was told and that they had no say in this. Shaz was young but not mindless—he could work it out for himself that the only person capable of giving an order that could not be questioned was the Grand Master Eunuch himself.

Salmeo pulled a grape from the glistening bunch of black fruit one of his attendants had delivered with a plate of shelled carrack nuts. He bit down on the grape, enjoying the explosion of juice, letting it trickle down his throat as he considered his position. He spat the seeds out. Yes, he knew what he had to do now.

Boaz was feeling uplifted by the Vizier’s visit. It was such an odd sensation to actually like the man and yet Boaz couldn’t help it.

Just then Bin emerged looking slightly uncomfortable. ‘It’s the Grand Master Eunuch, my Zar. He seems very agitated.’

‘Important, you think?’ Boaz asked.

The man nodded. ‘I believe it is.’

‘Show him into my study. I don’t want to see him here.’ Bin turned to leave. ‘And he is not to know that I’ve been with the Vizier,’ Boaz added as an afterthought and regretted it by the crestfallen look on his servant’s face.

Boaz knew Bin was far too discreet to do such a thing but Salmeo had a way of finding out anything and everything.

Bin reappeared. ‘He awaits you, my Zar.’

Boaz nodded, made the eunuch wait another three minutes before he stepped into the study. ‘You asked to see me, Chief Eunuch,’ he said, knowing how Salmeo preferred to be addressed by his grander title.

‘Forgive me for the interruption, my Zar,’ the huge man replied, bowing.

‘I imagine it must be important.’

‘It’s about the Spur.’

‘I thought we’d settled that. I want to put it from my mind. It is not easy passing sentence on a man’s life, especially one as seemingly loyal as Horz.’

Salmeo fixed a chastened expression on his face. ‘I can only imagine. But my conscience weighs heavily, my Zar.’

‘Explain why.’

‘Thank you, High One. I’ve been wondering how Horz could achieve such an act as dipping the thongs of the Viper’s Nest into the drezden without an accomplice. You see, my Zar, although the Head of the Elim would have access to the dispensary—and thus the poison—he would not have such ready access to the whips. These particular instruments are looked after by the Inflictors alone.’

‘Well, we’ve established that the Head of the Inflictors was away, am I right?’

‘Yes, my Zar, he still is.’

‘So that negates his involvement. And his Deputy was unwell?’

‘That’s correct, Zar Boaz. Rah was running a high fever. I sent my own physic to care for him,’ he lied. ‘The physic can corroborate how sick the Deputy Inflictor was.’

Yes I’m sure he can,
Boaz thought viciously. ‘Is he any better?’

‘The fever has run its course, Zar Boaz, but he is still unable to work. At the time of the Spur’s flogging he was unable to hold himself upright.’

‘So that leaves us with who?’ Boaz asked, knowing with a deep sense of pity whose name was about to be announced as an accomplice to murder.

‘There is only one other person, my Zar, who could open the weapons bureau. That’s Shaz.’

‘Now why do you think a young man like Shaz would agree to being involved with murdering the Spur?’

‘There is only one thing that propels most men into dark deeds, my Zar.’ Salmeo’s lisp was pronounced now as he spoke softly and with cunning.

Boaz smelled a vague breath of violets wafting over him. ‘And what is that?’

‘Money, Zar Boaz. Money alone galvanises most men—young or old—into action.’

‘What about love? Respect? Loyalty?’

‘Powerful indeed but riches are compelling, especially for a man who barely sees more than a few karels a month, Zar Boaz. What if he was promised what sounded like a small fortune?’

Boaz had heard enough. ‘Take me to the Inflictors’ quarters.’

‘Now, my Zar?’

‘Immediately.’

‘They will probably be resting after practice sessions,’ Salmeo risked.

Boaz fixed him now with a look that was hard enough to crush rocks. ‘You disturbed my rest, Chief Eunuch, because you felt it was too important to leave until later. Let’s sort this now. If we’re going to have another execution on our hands, I want them done together and I want this whole matter put behind us.’

Salmeo bowed, hiding the look of relief he was feeling at having taken careful precautions beforehand. ‘Of course, my Zar,’ he said, straightening, ‘let us go now.’

Boaz had very little to say to the eunuch as they made their way to the Inflictors’ accommodation. Instead he spoke quietly to Bin, whom he’d asked to accompany them, using the time to brief his secretary on what had transpired.

The few people they met were daunted by the trio and either bowed low as they swept through corridors or flattened themselves against the walls to bow in their wake, muttering words of joy to the Mightiest of the Mighties. Boaz ignored them. He was in no mood to be generous of spirit and he noted, not for the first time, that it didn’t matter anyway. The truth was he could do what he liked, act how he felt. He could slap passers-by if he so wished and he knew, with a terrible sense of destiny, that they would probably thank him for acknowledging them. It was easier to pretend they meant nothing and thus ignore their cringing good wishes.

After crossing several courtyards Salmeo finally pushed open a timber door that led into a small wing of the palace that housed the Inflictors’ quarters.

People at their work dropped to their knees as though it was a sickness. It was most unusual for any royal, least of all the Zar himself, to visit these humble accommodations. Boaz fixed a tight
smile at his mouth, moving swiftly behind the bulk of Salmeo to step inside the main chamber and startle the Deputy Inflictor.

He visibly paled. ‘Grand Master Eunuch, this is—’ and then he saw who accompanied Salmeo. It took moments to register that this was in fact the Zar before he fell to his knees. ‘Oh Great One!’

Boaz winced. ‘Please stand. You are?’

The man trembled. Boaz could appreciate that his arrival might make the Deputy nervous but the man seemed unnecessarily terrified. Was there something to hide? ‘I am Rah, Great One, the Deputy Inflictor.’

‘Ah, good. Are you alone?’

‘My wife and son are inside, my Zar. Is anything wrong?’ he stammered, glancing towards Salmeo, who pursed his lips. The sign was enough to alert Rah that this was official business and it didn’t taken him more than a moment’s consideration to realise what this was about.

‘Can we talk somewhere privately?’ Boaz suggested, as someone stepped inside the chamber and then hurriedly left when confronted by the trio of men.

‘Er, you’re welcome to come into my humble quarters, my Zar,’ he offered uncertainly.

Boaz nodded. ‘Send your wife and son outside—this is not for their ears.’

It was done. The family was hurried away and Rah returned, embarrassed, awkward and
betraying his nervousness through twitching hands and a voice far from steady. ‘May I offer some refreshment, my Zar, I—’

‘No, that won’t be necessary. I’m here to clarify something with you, Rah, and I insist that you converse with me in honesty, without fear of reprisal.’

The man nodded dumbly, again glancing at Salmeo.

Boaz was tired of Salmeo’s imposing presence. ‘Grand Master Eunuch,’ he said, ‘you may wait outside.’

Salmeo bristled but bowed nonetheless and departed. Boaz watched him carefully for any sign of threat to Rah but the eunuch’s face was blank of any.

As he had with Horz, Boaz turned now to the Deputy. ‘Do you know why I’m here?’

‘No, High One,’ the man spluttered, terrified.

‘Be calm, man. I am here only to ask you a question.’ Rah nodded, wide-eyed. ‘I want to know if anyone, bar the Inflictors, has access to your instruments?’

He shook his head rapidly. Boaz, already suspicious, felt his reaction was too swift. Most people would show some consternation at being asked such an odd question without preamble. ‘No, my Zar,’ and it was laced with a tinge of horror. ‘Absolutely no-one has access to the canes, whips or any of our implements of punishment. Why do you ask?’

‘Because a man has died. You’ve heard about the Spur?’

Rah looked thunderstruck. ‘He died? Forgive me, my Zar, I have only just recovered from my illness.’

It was either a superbly rehearsed act or the man was telling the truth. ‘How did you learn about the Spur being the person who would be punished?’

‘The Grand Master Eunuch came to see me. He was shocked that I was sick, my Zar, and incapable of doing the job. He already knew that our Inflictor Felz was not even in Percheron city. He was at a loss to know what to do.’

Boaz knew better. Salmeo was rarely at a loss regarding intrigue. ‘So he asked your advice?’

The man nodded fearfully again. ‘I didn’t have much to give. If I could have stood unaided I would have done it myself, my Zar. Forgive me. It was I who suggested Shaz—he was our only option when the Grand Master Eunuch explained that the job had to be done immediately. Shaz has been well trained and is our best apprentice. He knew what he had to do—I assume the mood and the celebrity of the Spur must have unravelled him. I had high hopes he would do all right.’

‘Well, he didn’t. He was perspiring, nervous, trembling. He was incapable of handling this task. I could see as much and I was the furthest person from him.’

‘I can’t imagine he killed him though, Mighty One.’

‘No, I don’t believe he did. I think the poison might have had something to do with it.’

The man’s head snapped back in shock. ‘Poison,’ he whispered. ‘You jest,’ he urged, forgetting his manners and all protocol.

‘I would never jest about something as grave as this. The Spur of Percheron is dead because someone dipped the whip into poison.’

The man’s complexion blanched. There was no way, in Boaz’s estimation, that this reaction could be contrived.

‘Who chose the Viper?’

Rah could barely talk through his shock to answer. Finally he stammered, ‘I can’t imagine why he would do such a foolish thing, my Zar, but Shaz would have made that choice. The Elim and Grand Master Salmeo have never involved themselves in such a decision. They have always left judgement to the Inflictors.’

‘What could have possibly made him choose the hardest weapon to wield on his first living victim?’

Rah shrugged and then caught himself. ‘Maybe the lad got excited. Shaz knows he’s the best apprentice by far, so it’s possible that arrogance could have got in the way of good sense—you know how youngsters like to show off.’ And then he caught himself, suddenly realising that he was talking to someone not far off Shaz’s own age.
‘Perhaps the boy is in debt to someone and he was bribed?’ he offered softly. ‘I didn’t know any of this, my Zar, until now.’

Boaz felt light-headed. Surely not an execution of Shaz as well as Horz? In his heart he knew Horz was not guilty and he couldn’t imagine Horz paying a boy to do his dirty work. The Elim were too proud for that. And yet Boaz had no proof of innocence for either, only evidence of guilt. He felt a blood rage threatening. ‘I have found what I came for,’ he said tightly and turned, angry and distraught.

He stomped out of the small dwelling and strode past Salmeo who stood a little distance from the main door looking grave.

After the Zar had disappeared, Salmeo turned to Rah who had appeared at the doorway still trembling from the episode.

‘Did he believe your story? Did you tell it precisely as I instructed?’

All Rah could do was nod and mutter, ‘Zarab help me.’ He was feeling sickened to his soul at lying to his Zar and now incriminating innocent Shaz, whose only flaw might be that he strove too hard to please those he worked for.

‘You have done well. Your family will live…and they will thank you for your steadfastness.’

Rah began to weep. ‘What will happen to Shaz?’

‘Who cares?’ Salmeo replied and smiled cruelly at the pitiful man. ‘Don’t worry about him—
collect a purse from me tomorrow after it’s done. That will ease your troubled conscience, Deputy.’

Shaz was only just beginning to recover from the previous day’s trauma. He had not yet heard the news that the Spur had died and he lived in hope that the man he had admired and cut so badly would forgive him. He planned to be one of the first to visit the Spur—if he would give his permission—so that he could make that plea of forgiveness in person. He’d even changed his mind about his profession. He no longer wanted to be an Inflictor. Flogging a man was nothing like flogging the practice dummies. Felz had said all he had to do was remove his emotion and pretend the man tied to the post was just a dummy. But Shaz had been unable to distance himself from the emotion or the reality. He hated what occurred yesterday and had it not been in front of the Zar, whom he also admired, he would have refused to continue after his first few botched lashes, no matter the harsh consequences. It would have been hard enough to complete the punishment with a single whip. Putting the Snake into his hands was a ludicrous order.