The Harem Master (24 page)

Demir laughed. "He doesn't need training, only motivation. I think—" he stopped as the door opened and turned to greet a servant bearing food.

The young man set out two trays of food, then left and returned with another filled with more wine. Bowing himself out, he left them to dine.

After nearly two hours had passed Shamir returned, dragging in a sobbing young woman by her hair. Shamir motioned for them to stand, and once they had, threw the woman at their feet. "Tell them what you did."

Between sobs and sniffles, the young woman said, "A man, a foreigner, paid me twenty-five marks to tell him what Lord Arda did here."

Twenty-five marks was an almost obscene amount of money. That was enough for her to live comfortably without working for a long time. "Who was the man? Did he come here? Did you meet him somewhere else?" Demir knelt in front of her. "Tell us everything you can, please."

She sniffled and nodded. "I'm sorry, we needed the money. He came here once, hired me for the night. I thought I was finally gaining a reputation, you know? That I was asked for by name. But he knew how badly I needed the money. Told me to figure out what Lord Arda liked, gave me a third of the money. I figured out his secret and met the man in a little room close to the harbor. The Gold & Silver, across from the fisherman's guild. Room six. I didn't know. I thought it was just political games that nobles play." She started crying again, tears and snot smearing her face. "I didn't know he'd die."

"Trust is precious," Demir said. "Betraying those who trust you always brings harm. You are not to blame for Lord Arda's death; only his murderer is to blame for that. But remember that he died the next time you think to betray." He rose, reached into the pouch at his waist, and handed Shamir two quarter marks, the silver gleaming in the low light. "Thank you, Shamir. Peace upon your home."

"Merciful Divine guard your steps," Shamir replied and kissed the corner of his mouth.

"If a man, a Rittuen, comes looking for me, tell him where we have gone, if you please, my lady," Demir said, and kissed her cheek when she nodded.

"Be careful." Shamir looked at Haluk. "Soldier, take care of him."

"With my life, Lady," Haluk replied. She nodded approvingly then bent to speak with the still-crying woman.

Demir led the way out of the house, bemused by the woman's information and Haluk's declaration. On the street, he pulled his wrap up over his head again, shivering slightly in the air, which was cold enough to mist his breath. "You are not here to be my bodyguard, Lord Haluk. His Highness would be furious if you were harmed protecting me."

"He would be furious if I let you come to harm," Haluk replied. He gave Demir a small grin, amused and faintly boyish. "You have been trained to be the most breathtaking man in the palace, my lord. I have been trained to keep people safe. Trust me to my work."

"As you say," Demir conceded, bowing slightly. "Shall we head to the harbor?"

"Speaking of keeping people safe," Haluk said with a sigh. "I will take the lead, if you do not mind terribly."

Demir grinned briefly. "Given the dressing down I just received, I do not think my minding would stop you."

"As you say," Haluk replied with a laugh. He lingered a moment longer, a strange beat of hesitation, going still as though some movement had been aborted. Then he turned sharply away and left Moon Orchid behind, Demir a few paces behind him.

There was no reason for Demir's heartbeat to have increased, but his heart thudded rapidly in his chest all the same. If he was not mistaken, Haluk had nearly stepped in to kiss him. Combined with his earlier comments, that look he had briefly given Demir…

Demir was used to people looking at him with lust, to the point he was largely inured. Haluk's looks seemed to run deeper than that, though how deep Demir could not speculate. How, he did not know; they barely knew each other. Haluk was six years his junior and had always been in the employ of the royal guard, most of that time spent as Ihsan's personal bodyguard. Combined with a five-year absence… Simple lust was the only thing that made a modicum of sense.

But it didn't ring true and left Demir feeling at a loss as to what to do. He could handle lustful gazing, or Kitt's brazen, playful flirting. Sincere affection was an entirely different problem, especially when the source of it was one of Prince Ihsan's concubines. And it wasn't as though Haluk was unappealing. If he was unattached, still only a bodyguard, Demir would have been drawn to him and likely accepted any offer made.

Leaving the wealthy district behind, they moved quickly through the poorer distracts, slowing only when they reached the rough area around the harbor. Demir saw a few shadows move, heard snatches of furtive conversation, the odd grunt and smack of flesh from fights or drunks being thrown out of bars.

As they turned a corner, he saw the bar they sought at the end of the street. "There it is." He started to walk faster, but faltered when he heard shouting and screaming followed by the sudden pounding of several sets of feet. He turned toward the source—then oofed as Haluk shoved him into a wall, grunting when his head knocked against rough stone.

Before he could draw breath to speak, a trio of men bolted past them, followed only a few beats later by a pack of furious guards, boots pounding, angry curses filling the night.

"What in the name of the Divine…" Demir said when the silence returned.

"Young, drunk men doing very stupid things, I would wager—to guards, at that. They will not find themselves very amusing when they wake up hung over and in stocks for the afternoon," Haluk said dryly. "My apologies for the rough treatment, my lord." He looked up, stared a beat too long.

They were close enough to kiss, and it was troubling that Demir was tempted. He looked away, shaking his head slightly. "No apology necessary. Thank you for getting me out of the way."

Haluk lingered a moment longer, then pushed away from the wall. Demir righted himself, and they continued down the street to the bar.

Ignoring the barkeeper, who after one glance seemed content to be ignored, they headed up the stairs at the back of the bar and down the dim-lit hall to a dingy door marked with the number six. "It's ajar," Haluk said, frowning. "Stay here a moment." He pushed the creaky door open further, drawing his sword as he slipped inside.

A moment later Demir heard a sharp, exasperated curse. The door swung open wide, and Kitt grinned. "Hello, Demir."

"I cannot say I am surprised," Demir said, smiling briefly as he stepped inside. "What brought you here, my lord?"

Kitt closed the door, leaned against it, and folded his arms across his chest. "That conversation you overheard reminded me of too many others I've heard over the years, and they all come back to two things: Havarin and sex slaves. Do you know what a man of your skills and beauty would go for on the black market?"

Demir shook his head. "I cannot imagine anyone would dare take me; I would immediately be missed, and my understanding is that slave trading relies heavily on no one noticing the people they kidnap."

"Deaths can be faked, as you well know. I promise once someone in Havarin had you shackled they would do whatever it took to keep you," Kitt said quietly. "The Harem Master of Tavamara would cost enough sovereigns to fully fund a small country for a few years, I have absolutely no doubt."

"There is nothing that remarkable about me," Demir replied, shaking his head. "I am exceedingly well-trained, but anyone can be trained if they have the desire and patience. My skills are no more precious and rare than using a sword or playing an instrument. If the rest of the world thinks me valuable, it is only because they are exotifying me and Tavamara, and more the fools them."

"Be that as it may, you would be worth a lot. So too the royal concubines, especially if they became palace concubines, and there were so many they came and went too quickly for anyone to pay proper attention."

Haluk swore loudly. "You cannot mean what I think you mean. Where is the man that was supposed to be in this room?"

"He'll be back soon. He's making his nightly round of threats and bribes, if my source is to be trusted, which I believe he can be on that point. And yes, I mean exactly what you think—there are people in the palace, though I don't yet know how many, who are seeking to turn the royal harems into… well, sex slave farms, to put it bluntly. Mind you, it's only supposition."

"I trust your suppositions," Haluk said. "What provoked them?"

"Like I said, the conversation Demir overheard troubled me. I know where slave traders and those they work with can be found. What I found is that there is a small but thriving business for it here in Tavala. Most of the decision makers are Havarin, with a smattering of other nations. Some of those involved are fully invested, others are happy to accept bribes and ask no questions, and the remaining are threatened into compliance. One of them mentioned that there is one man who seems to manage the threats and bribes, and that he can be found here. Whoever he is, he's still just a stepping stone, but one who likely reports to the person in charge here in Tavamara."

"This all seems far too easy," Haluk said. "Slave traders are more subtle than this, especially in Tavamara and Rittu, where concubines and other pleasure workers are highly regarded."

"Easy? Maybe, but the more accurate word would be arrogant."

Haluk made a face. "A fair point."

"If not for Arda's panic-driven actions, we would have no clue," Demir said. "If that is what's happening, they've been working smoothly and quietly for some time. I dread to know how many people have gone missing. No concubines, minus those I smuggled out myself, but there are plenty in the city and even the palace who could have been sold. Even the recent meeting over the harems would not have tipped me that such a plot was in play."

Kitt nodded. "I would wager a good number of the council—" He broke off, lifted a hand, then gestured sharply for them to hide. Drawing a long, thin knife from somewhere among his clothes, he moved to the side of the door and crouched down low.

A few seconds later the door swung open and a grungy-looking man stepped into the room. He turned to close the door and let out a cry that turned into a squeak as Kitt grabbed him and slammed him to the floor. "Haluk."

Moving rapidly across the room, Haluk closed and locked the door, then drew his sword and stood guard in front of it. Kitt dragged his squirming captive to the middle of the room and threw him into the only chair, punching him in the stomach when he tried to bolt out of it. Looking at Demir, Kitt said, "Hand me that rope on the table."

"You need him tied up, I assume?" Demir asked, wishing he felt as calm about the situation as Kitt and Haluk acted. He was well-acquainted with tying men up, but not for violent purposes.

"Yes."

Demir picked up the rope, then knelt and quickly bound the man's ankles to the chair legs. He tugged and tested the knots, and when he was satisfied, secured the man's wrists behind the chair back. As an added measure, he secured the man's neck as well, leaving him just enough room to breathe and move his head a little bit.

"Handsome work," Kitt said as he examined the knots. "Such a pity it's wasted on this unhappy task. Stand there in the corner; don't come close unless I say." When Demir had done as requested, Kitt put his full attention on the bound man. "So you're the one they call Jev."

The man said nothing, merely glared.

Kitt grinned, all tooth and cold malice. The man's glare wavered. "You're Rittuen, which makes you even more despicable."

"Fuck off. You know nothing about me."

"I know those who break the Great Dragon's Heart die in His Shadow," Kitt replied. The man's pink-toned skin turned almost bone white. "Tell me about the slave traders and I'll kill you here and now, instead of sending you home to be sentenced by His Majesty as you deserve."

To Demir's astonishment, the man did, though in the end he did not have much to offer. He was in charge of keeping the various pieces in the city under control and occasionally was told to dig up information on important people in the palace. The names he rattled off were either councilors or people closely connected to the council.

"Who is your boss?" Kitt asked.

"Right now? No one. He's dead. Murdered, apparently, by one of the bastards he told me to dig up information on." He leered. "The one that liked to be—"

"Enough," Demir snapped, striding forward—stopping only when Haluk moved between them. "It is not your secret to share, you pathetic coward."

Jev laughed, cold and mean—then grunted in pain when Kitt backhanded him hard enough to cut his lip. "If he hadn't been ashamed of it, he wouldn't have been used because of it. Not my problem people are scared of themselves and permit others to abuse them."

"The Great Dragon would be ashamed of you for the lack of love in your heart," Kitt said, and before Jev could reply, Kitt moved around him, cut the rope around his throat, then grabbed hold of his head, and snapped his neck.

Demir looked away, closing his eyes and silently chanting a prayer. He took several deep, slow breaths, tried to still his trembling. The meal he'd recently eaten churned unpleasantly in his stomach, threatened to come back up. It was one thing to know Kitt was a trained killer, another to see it.

He heard Haluk and Kitt whispering furiously to each other but could not focus well enough to understand the words. A moment later, Kitt's hands rested lightly on his forearms. Demir forced his eyes open. "I'm sorry," Kitt said softly. "It was cruel of me to do that in front of you. I am far too used to working with men as brutal as me or at least accustomed to my ways and familiar with killing." He stared hard, as though searching Demir's eyes, mouth twisting. "Are you afraid of me now?"

"No," Demir said slowly, taking another deep breath. "Not afraid. I've seen dead men, but never seen one killed. It's a bit unsettling. His Majesty orders people dead the same way he would swat a fly. You—you—his neck broke as easily as a twig. I wasn't expecting it, and I do not think I'll ever be used to it, but you do not need to tread carefully or treat me gently over it."