the architect’s vision. The Gashran was an interwoven complexity of stone and living timber, and had been given over to the lesser princes of Asur’s line for time out of mind.
Not for nothing was it set apart from the rest of the palace. Honai patrolled its grounds night and day and questioned or escorted anyone who ventured close; a Great King must needs keep an eye on the doings of his offspring, both high and low. The Gashran was not a prison — it was beautiful, luxuriously appointed, a palace in itself — but it was a monitored place.
Rakhsar and Roshana had lived within the bark and stone of its bewildering arrangements for all of their lives.
Roshana stood now in her own chambers, looking down at the sleeping boy in the bed before her with her komis drawn up around her nose. Above it, her eyes were bright amaranthine lights.
‘Will he live, Barzam?’
The tall Kefre bowed behind her. ‘Yes, lady. He is young, and he has the strength of the undercity in him. I have seen many of his kind recover from far worse.’
‘You will attend to him every day, Barzam.’
The Kefre spread his spatulate hands. ‘Lady, with all due respect, is that really necessary? This is but a hufsan slave, a creature of the — ’
‘You will do as I ask, or I will find a physician who will.’
‘Of course, lady. I am wholly at your command.’
‘Thank you, Barzam. If you have any further instructions for the staff, you may leave them with the steward on your way out.’
Wordless, unseen, the tall Kefre bowed behind her and left noiselessly.
On the other side of the heavy door he was brought up short. Rakhsar grinned at him and clapped him on the arm like an old comrade. ‘Barzam! She has you physicking her new pet, has she?’
‘She seems determined that the creature should survive.’
‘She was always like that. I’ve learned to let her have her way in these things. It’s not often Roshana digs in her heels, but when she does, Bel himself could not move her.’
‘It is always a pleasure doing the bidding of the lady Roshana,’ Barzam said, somewhat stiffly.
Rakhsar took his hand and placed into it a small pouch of doeskin that clinked as it left his fingers.
‘Your patience is much appreciated, Barzam. And your discretion, also. She means no disrespect.’
‘Roshana could not offend me. I delivered her,’ Barzam said, unbending a little.
‘I know.’ Rakhsar winked. ‘I was there.’
He could move extremely quietly when he set his mind to it. He eased the door shut behind him and stood with Roshana’s slim back within arm’s reach. Cocking his head to one side, Rakhsar considered his moment.
‘Do not creep about like that, Rakhsar,’ Roshana said without turning around.
‘I could have been an assassin.’
‘Then he would have the same garish taste in perfume as you.’
He joined her before the bed. They touched hands.
‘Sister, you pick a strange time to take in a stray. One might almost think Kouros planned it this way.’
‘He does not have the forethought.’
‘His mother does.’
‘No — this is all his own work. He has not changed since we were children. Even then, he was happiest off alone torturing something.’
Rakhsar bent over the boy. ‘He’s a pretty one. I can see how he has stirred that soft heart of yours. What exactly — ’
‘He was raped and castrated. I think Dyarnes had a hand in it. It is why he left last night’s dinner.’
‘Noble Dyarnes, father’s loyal shadow,’ Rakhsar said dryly. He lifted the coverlet, peered below, and winced. ‘When my time comes, I hope to God they take my head off first. Poor little bastard. Well, I suppose we can find some corner to tuck him into before we go.’
‘We take him with us.’
‘You jest, sister. This is not some nightingale you can carry in a box. What purpose would it serve?’
‘I will not give Kouros the satisfaction.’
Rakhsar laughed. ‘Were you of a less fastidious nature, you could have had Kouros eating rice from your hand from before his own balls dropped.’
‘Do not be crude, Rakhsar. And I’d rather be dead than flirt with that murderous oaf.’
Rakhsar sighed. ‘My sister, so brave, so honest, as straight as a spear-shaft, and as likely to bend.’ Something like asperity crept into his voice. ‘How lucky you are to have the conniving Rakhsar as a brother, to dirty his hands so that yours stay clean. We can not all afford your scruples, Roshana. The little catamite stays here.’
‘You know better than to argue this with me, Rakhsar.’
They glared at one another. Finally Roshana touched her twin’s shoulder. ‘When are we to leave?’
‘Tomorrow night. I have arranged for a party in the grounds. We will slip away during it, under the noses of the Honai. I have briefed some slaves to provide distraction.’
‘And then?’
‘And then, sister, we must brave the passages of the undercity. I have a useful Kefre in our pay, a kitchen- master. He was questioned by the Honai last night and I thought the jig was up, but it turns out it was only to do with some errant slave.’ He frowned, looked at the boy in the bed. ‘Bel’s blood, I hope you are right about Kouros. If this is all connected, then it’s over for us before it begins.’ He turned to one side, deep in thought.
‘If Orsana suspected, we would be dead already,’ Roshana told him. ‘The boy’s coming here is a coincidence.’
Rakhsar stood up, as brisk and serious now as a soldier. ‘When he wakes, I should like to talk to him. He’s a creature of the undercity himself. Perhaps he will not be dead weight after all. You have your people warned?’
‘Three. Maidek, Saryam and Ushau.’
Rakhsar nodded. ‘I know them. Ushau for strength, Maidek for sense, and Saryam for companionship.’
‘I could not have put it better myself. And you, brother?’
He smiled. ‘I go alone.’
‘Is there no-one — ’
‘That I can trust? I am the younger son, Roshana. If Bel himself took me into his embrace, I would check my pockets afterwards.’
‘Perhaps that will change, when we are elsewhere.’
‘Perhaps. We have the whole wide world to escape to, but there’s barely a corner of it that does not know the imprint of the empire. Places to hide in may not be easy to come by.’
‘And is that all you mean to do — hide?’
‘I mean to survive, sister, by any means necessary. I am young yet. The world changes — the Macht are invading, the Jutha are in rebellion. Who knows what fractures and alarms and opportunities tomorrow may bring?’
Roshana hugged herself as though suddenly cold.
‘I just wish it were done, and we were away.’
‘One way or another, that part will be over soon enough.’ Rakhsar looked down on the bed, at the face of the sleeping boy. ‘In the end, I wonder if there is much we can do to influence our fate. They took this boy’s manhood last night, all his hopes for posterity, and then shoved him from the wings onto the stage of history. I hope he profits by the exchange.’
It was the cooler air that woke Kurun. It blew on one side of his face, and he was moving against it, but his right cheek was resting against warm flesh.
And then the pain.
The groan mushroomed out of him, seeming to leave him not through his mouth but by every pore of his tattered body. He writhed.