The Dragon Queens (The Mystique Trilogy) (10 page)

The query nearly made my husband choke on his wine. ‘I indulge whenever I can, your Majesty,’ he granted, without confirming or denying what the Shah had obviously been told.

His Highness found the comeback amusing. ‘As do I,’ he said, chuckling. Then his manner shifted,
indicating that the social niceties were coming to an end and it was time for business. ‘So,’ he said, ‘as I am very pleased with your gift of the minstrel, I am willing to extend your permit until such time as a war between our two countries is an actuality.’

‘Hopefully, that shall never be the case,’ Taylor commented.

I felt he was probing the Shah for his thoughts on the issue, for this was the first time he’d even broached the subject of Herat. The Shah, however, made no further comment that hinted at his intention in that regard.

I had other concerns. The way his Majesty had phrased his proposal, it sounded as though he had mistaken our intent entirely.

‘I am pleased that your Majesty was impressed by Mr Choron’s performance,’ I said. ‘Perhaps he could play again for you before we leave.’

Now the Shah looked perplexed. ‘You are taking your gift home with you?’

‘The gift was the performance, not the performer, your Highness. I thought I had made that clear. Mr Choron is my dear friend; I cannot give what I do not possess.’

‘But what point is there to a gift of a musical composition if there is no minstrel at my court to play it?’ The Shah was very reasonable about the misunderstanding. ‘I was hoping to stage a complete re-enactment for de Guise next time he visits.’

‘I could teach one of your musicians the piece,’ Cingar suggested. ‘I could stay with your Majesty for as long as my friends remain at the excavation site.’

‘There is no one accomplished enough on the violin whom you could instruct,’ the Shah stated.

My mind flew to Raineath. ‘Is there not a woman in your harem who plays an instrument?’ I queried.

The Shah appeared most displeased by the suggestion. ‘
That woman
is not a possibility. She will never lay a hand on a violin again so long as I live; that is her punishment for insulting her king.’

I looked to Cingar, who was immediately empathetic towards the woman in question. ‘Why not just kill her?’ he said. Obviously the gypsy felt death would be preferable to a life without music.

‘She wants to die,’ the Shah explained.

It was clear Cingar was about to say something we were all going to regret, but thankfully Lord Devere jumped in. ‘If you do not mind me saying so, your Highness, as a husband and father myself, it seems a frightful waste to be paying for the maintenance of a woman who serves no purpose to your Highness whatsoever.’

I sensed that my husband was praying he had not caused greater insult than Cingar might have, but the Shah’s face melted to a smile once more.

‘You make a good argument, Lord Suffolk.’ The Shah paused, seeming to be seeing things in a new light. ‘Perhaps if I show great mercy and award this woman the opportunity to better herself, her attitude might improve.’

I felt the Shah had a secret soft spot for Raineath, for when he spoke of her the lower light centres of his subtle body flared. It was not love, however, for his heart centre remained unaffected.

‘The way I see it, your Majesty, better she is a useful addition to your court than a useless overhead.’ Lord Devere was reasoning like a local now.

‘And Raineath is very pleasing on the eye, your Highness,’ I added. ‘I feel sure the Duc de Guise
would be envious of your musician, whereas I greatly doubt he would be pleased to see Cingar again.’

‘Ah yes, Mr Choron’s infamous enchantment of women.’ The Shah had forgotten about that little detail. ‘Perhaps it is not wise to let such a man anywhere near my harem.’

Cingar spoke up in his own defence. ‘That was twenty years ago, before a very happy marriage, your Highness. That legend died the day I wed my wife.’

‘But I understand your wife is now deceased?’ the Shah queried.

‘Not to me, your Majesty,’ Cingar replied, with such heartfelt sincerity that it caused his voice to tremble.

‘Perhaps your Highness could have the tuition sessions supervised?’ I suggested.

‘Oh, I shall.’ The Shah smiled to let me know we had reached an arrangement. ‘Mr Choron will be treated as my guest until such time as circumstances bring our arrangement to a close. At which time I will see him safely returned to you, for the journey home.’

‘In the Gospel of Witches, it is said that to find a stone with a hole in it is a special sign of the favour of Diana. A round stone, be it great or small, is a good sign, but it should never be given away, because the receiver will then get the good luck and some disaster will befall the giver.’

I was explaining the legend to my husband because, due to my own absent-mindedness, I had lost my own precious ringstone and my connection to Albray and to Cingar’s great-grandmother, Chiara. I had realised my grave oversight as Lord Devere and myself were being escorted to our private rooms after dinner. I immediately informed Kazem about the missing item and he kindly accompanied us back to the bathing area to look for my missing treasure, but my ringstone was no longer where I had left it.

I had tried laying my hand on the spot by the pool where I had left the stone, to see if I could perceive who had picked it up, but the bath saw a lot of traffic every day and I could not pinpoint the claimant in the sea of faces that I descried.

‘The piece would look like a mere river pebble to anyone else, but for me it holds great sentimental value,’ I told Kazem, who said he would make enquiries to see if anyone had found my keepsake.

‘But the Gospel of Witches does not state whether bad luck will befall a person who loses such a stone, as opposed to someone who makes a gift of the item,’ my husband said in the privacy of our room, trying to reason with me. He could see I was fretting terribly.

‘I feel that as long as the ring changes hands, the curse will apply.’

‘I thought that you created your own reality, Mrs Devere? It is not like you to give power to some ancient superstition.’

‘To accept and believe in the magic, one must also believe in the curse,’ I said. ‘Polarity demands it.’

‘But you cannot be cursed with bad luck,’ he told me confidently. ‘You just negotiated a dream deal with the Shah of Persia.’

‘That was before I was aware that the stone had gone missing!’

‘So it is all downhill from here then,’ he mocked gently.

‘You fell victim to the curse yourself the day we met and I dropped the stone. Remember? You picked it up for me, although I insisted it would bring you bad luck, and then look at the hell I dragged you through after that!’

My lord frowned, seeing my reasoning, but still disagreeing. ‘What you put me through was my own damned fault for lying to you; it had nothing to do with any curse!’

‘But you might have got away with the deception had your luck been better,’ I countered.

Lord Devere was becoming rather exasperated by my argument, and my concern for the loss of the ring was arousing his jealous streak. ‘It is not as though you have lost all your psychic talent,’ he said. ‘You have only lost Albray’s services, and if you intend to keep the Lady du Lac in the closet then I do not see what the problem is.’

‘You’re happy about this, aren’t you? I should never have taken it off.’ For a moment, in my frustrated state, I even suspected my lord might have arranged for the stone to go missing.

‘I know what you are implying,’ Lord Devere cautioned. ‘And although it is true that I would not be sad to see the back of your ghostly friend, I would never purposely destroy your peace of mind in this fashion. If I knew where the stone was right now, believe me, I would tell you.’

My lord did hate it when we were at odds. I reined in my frustration and explained what my real concern was.

‘If Albray’s curse is ever to be lifted by one of my descendants as predicted, I need to find that stone. For without it, how will one of our great-great-granddaughters ever be able to contact Albray? Let alone help him!’

‘Can you not summon him to another stone?’ Lord Devere suggested.

‘I do not know,’ I admitted. ‘I would have to find such a stone again…it was only by the luck of the Goddess that I found the first one!’ I began to pace, hating myself for jeopardising Albray’s one hope of future happiness, after all he had done for me. ‘I should have left it in its box at home. If I had, it
would be safe now. And what if whoever found the stone recognises it for the tool it really is?’ This was the most horrifying prospect of all. ‘Anyone versed in the Craft would immediately suspect its value.’

Lord Devere had heard enough. ‘Now you are getting carried away—witchcraft is hardly all the rage here in the heart of Islam. I feel sure Kazem will find the stone and return it to you in the morning.’

My husband stripped off his boots and collapsed onto the bed.

‘I wish I shared your optimism,’ I said, and continued my aimless wandering back and forth, albeit at a slower pace. As much as I wished Lord Devere to be right in this case, my psychic premonition told me that the recovery of my treasure was not going to be so simple.

I barely slept that night, or for several nights after. I was not the kind of woman to pine, but the thought of Albray lost forever in the Netherworld, his quest unrealised, his soul unable to reincarnate, kept causing my eyes to well with tears.

It was with a heavy heart that I travelled back down the Euphrates towards the Mound of Pitch. Kazem had ordered the palace searched from top to bottom and anyone questioned who might have come in contact with my lost stone, but no one had seen it.

‘I do hate to see you so depressed.’ Lord Devere offered me a cup of water. ‘Especially over another man.’

My sights were transfixed on the far bank of the river, where some children were frolicking in the water. I was thinking about my own children and how much I adored them. Albray had never had
children or known the bliss of married life, and in all likelihood now he never would.

‘Mrs Devere?’ My husband nudged my shoulder with his.

I looked to him. ‘Sorry, did you say something?’

He rolled his eyes and placed the cup of water in my hand. ‘This is so unlike you. Can you not trust that your charm was lost for a good reason? I mean, you have always had the luck of the Goddess with you, why should now prove any different? Perhaps there is someone else out there who needs Albray’s help more than you do? Or perhaps this is the cosmos’s way of telling you that you should be utilising your own skills and not relying on outside forces to solve your problems for you?’

‘Is that what you think?’ I took offence, although part of me knew this was only to resist accepting that my lord might be right. ‘I would not have lasted two seconds against those swordsmen without Albray’s aid.’

‘I know that.’ Lord Devere was being very patient with me. ‘What I am saying is that if you did not have the Albray option, you would have figured out a way to sweet-talk the Shah and get what you wanted, in the same manner you have succeeded for the past twenty years without any help from your ghosts.’

‘Well, I do not have the choice any more.’ I breathed a huge sigh to prevent my tears welling anew. ‘And I have failed a dear friend.’ That was what really hurt.

‘You cannot say that for sure.’ My husband placed a hand on mine. ‘You may still be able to reestablish contact with the knight via another stone.
Why be defeated before you have exhausted every avenue?’

Now he really was right and I hung my head, ashamed of my pessimistic attitude. ‘I am just so remorseful,’ I confessed. My heart was so heavy that it felt as if it had dropped into oblivion and left a gaping hole in my chest.

‘I know you are,’ he sympathised. ‘And I was the one who asked you to take off the charm, so how do you think I feel?’ I knew he was not mocking me. Although Albray was not his favourite soul, I could tell Lord Devere truly felt bad about what had happened. ‘Yet you only feel remorse because you choose to react that way to this situation,’ he continued, quoting my own philosophy back to me. ‘You could just as easily choose to know that somehow everything will turn out for the best, and that, even if there is a curse, it will only have as much power over you as you choose to give it.’

‘You are right,’ I conceded, sniffling back my emotion and breathing another great sigh to release the lump of guilt that had been squatting in my chest for days. ‘Anything is possible if I will just allow it to be.’

‘That’s the spirit! No pun intended.’ He tapped my water cup, urging me to drink before I got dehydrated.

I took a sip and continued with the attempt to turn around my negative state of mind. ‘I have been up against worse than a curse in the past. I will find Albray again, one way or another,’ I said, feeling decidedly more optimistic.

‘I so look forward to that,’ my lord replied.

I gave him a look that implied I was well aware he was being sarcastic.

‘No, truly,’ he insisted. ‘Then I might be able to get you to think of something else.’

‘I am sorry.’ I decided it was high time I changed the subject. ‘I wonder how much progress Levi has made in our absence.’

‘You refer to the dig site, I gather?’ My husband wore a cheeky smile, unable to hide his pride that his son was so attractive to women.

‘I have been wondering about his progress with Miss Koriche too,’ I admitted. ‘I hope it is not her intention to break his heart.’

‘I think it rather impressive that Levi could seduce such a woman at all,’ my husband said. ‘Eastern women are far more chaste than the women of Europe—’

Lord Devere bit his tongue as he noticed the expression on my face. ‘Is that right?’ I said, pretending to find the comment insulting.

‘What I meant to say was…’ He had a think about it and realised there was no fixing the statement. ‘Miss Koriche is just so closed to most people, and yet with Levi…’ he said, and shrugged.

‘Yes, it is a little odd,’ I agreed. Why was this the case? Because he was younger than the rest of us and more easily trusted?

‘Not to worry,’ Lord Devere said. ‘In a few days, we shall hear all the news right from the horse’s mouth.’

‘I hope the horse is not still mad at me,’ I said. I regretted that I had not made my peace with Levi before leaving—that was how disputes festered.

‘Levi can never stay angry with you for long, you know that.’

‘But I have never come between Levi and his lady love before,’ I added.

‘Well, if we are going into “but ifs”…’ my lord grinned. ‘But if the situation has righted itself in our absence, all shall be forgiven, especially as you have managed to get our permit extended. I think that is a much more positive scenario to meditate upon.’

He actually drew a laugh out of me. ‘You are in fine mental form today, my lord. You put me to shame.’

My husband was pleased to see me laugh, and it felt good to let my worries go for the moment.

We arrived at the Mound of Pitch to find the site completely deserted. Far from my troubles being over, I feared they were just beginning. The only movement we could see was that of an eerie wind scattering sand about the excavation and its little village.

‘Oh my…what has happened?’ My first thought was that bandits or the local law enforcement agents had raided the site.

‘There does not seem to be any sign of a struggle,’ Taylor said, having had a quick look around the village. ‘Nor does there appear to be anyone here. I am guessing that we have been shut down.’

‘Against the Shah’s orders?’ I thought that unlikely. ‘The kad-khuda has surely received the royal decree by now?’

My husband exited the site house, where he had been conducting a thorough search. I had not seen his expression so grave in a long time. ‘Levi is not here either,’ he said, ‘and all the household servants are gone.’

‘Maybe Levi is down in the dig?’ I suggested.

We all made haste towards the pit. As much as I did not want to concede that the curse of losing my
ringstone might have something to do with this strange twist of fate, it seemed a rather bizarre coincidence.

In the second room of the ancient dwelling we had been excavating, the hole in the floor had dropped to new depths and the walls had been reinforced with timbers. A rope and pulley were rigged up to an overhead beam, providing the means for an individual to lower himself down. We could not see the bottom of the hole, it just dropped into darkness.

‘Well, someone has been very busy.’ Taylor was obviously impressed by our son’s progress.

‘Levi!’ I called down into the dark depths, but there was no reply.

‘I believe a torch might be in order,’ Lord Devere suggested.

Mr Taylor retrieved the said item from the site house and, setting it alight, we dropped the flaming brand into the shaft. It landed about thirty feet below us and then clattered off out of sight.

‘Stairs,’ Mr Taylor deduced. ‘I am all for going down.’

‘I shall go.’ Lord Devere removed his jacket. ‘It is my son that is missing.’

‘He is my son too,’ I said, not about to be left out.

‘You can be right behind me for all I care, Mrs Devere,’ my husband said, taking hold of the rope. ‘But
I
am going first.’

Mr Taylor lowered Lord Devere down, then aided me to descend after him. Fortunately I was attired suitably from the camel ride back to the site. Once I was safely down, Taylor threw us several unlit torches, which we could ignite from the first torch, which was still flaming a little further down
the stairs. Lord Devere then helped lower Mr Taylor down to join us.

‘These stairs are stone,’ I commented, noting the rarity of the material. Immediately I remembered the priestess who had owned the serpent comb, and her dash up these very stairs before they were buried and forgotten for aeons.

‘The walls are also stone.’ Taylor could hardly believe what he was seeing. ‘Such extravagance for a mere stairway.’ He looked excited at the prospect of finding great treasure.

‘That could explain why this structure is not filled with earth like the rest of the ziggurat,’ Lord Devere speculated. ‘The walls are resilient enough to have held back sand and flood.’

‘Until now,’ I said. ‘Or rather, until Levi unearthed this passage.’ My anxiety for my son’s welfare was paining my chest more with every passing second.

‘Let us see where our unusual stairway leads, shall we?’ Taylor said. ‘With any luck we will find our missing crew.’