day room when she sought darkness.
Wondering what sight, grisly or exciting, awaited her, she crossed to the window and cast her glance immediately downwards. The moonlight was bright and illuminated everything below and before her.
The ground outside the harem wall continued level for only a few feet and then fell away precipitously, becoming rocks and jagged cliffs and ending twenty feet above the water in a ledge upon which the walls strode around the bluff. There was activity on the parapet; perhaps someone had thrown themselves off after all?
Asima, her interest piqued, glanced right along the wall to see the faces of several of the lesser concubines projecting from the windows. They were not looking down. With a strange, sinking feeling, Asima turned her head and followed the direction of their gaze.
She must have been blind not to notice it immediately.
The open sea beyond the walls was dotted with vessels, some ablaze, others gradually sinking to a watery grave. As she watched in shock, a ball of burning mass shot up from one of the haraq warships and gracefully arced out over the sea, its reflection in the black waves eerie even at this distance, before it came down, smashing through sails and rigging on board an identical ship.
What the hell was going on?
It registered in mere moments that all of the vessels involved in the huge and vicious naval engagement below were Pelasian, with the traditional black sails. From here she would have no hope of identifying the flags on board, but some of them must be the royal fleet based here at Akkad. It was unrealistic to believe such a fight would occur below the city without the royal fleet being involved.
And that meant Pelasians attacking Akkad.
Which meant only one thing: civil war.
What was it with the men ruling this world? All Asima wanted was a happy and rich life of peace and plenty and every time she managed to find a niche and start decorating it the way she liked, some mindless ruler attacked and wiped everything out.
She growled. First satrap Ma’ahd at M’Dahz and now someone else here. The Empire was known to have well and truly collapsed nearly two decades ago, but why did Pelasia feel the need to follow suit.
“No!” Asima barked to herself. She was not having this. Not again. She was damned if she’d spent so much time and effort hauling herself up the ladder only to have the wall moved away as she neared the top. She had dishonoured, destroyed and downright murdered over a dozen people to get where she was now… She paused and frowned as she realised how bad this sounded when she said it flatly. There were extenuating circumstances.
“Besides,” she said to herself soothingly, “that’s how the game is played. I just play better than most.”
Setting her jaw, she examined herself in the mirror and, tutting irritably, lit the lamps to give herself a clearer view. Could be worse; her hair, long and straight and dark, stayed relatively neat no matter how disturbed her night was and a few quick strokes with the brush and two or three of her golden pins would soon make her look divine once more.
A servant eunuch had laid out her clothes for the morning and, since she had a lunchtime engagement with the God-king, they were among her best and most enticing. That would be fine and, as for the making up? Well, Asima had the practice down to such an art these days that she could accomplish a better look than most professionals in a mere couple of minutes.
She set to work with a vengeance and, within five minutes, was ready, giving herself a last critical look in the mirror. Yes, that would do. She had to be prepared for anything but, whatever happened tonight, she had to look divine enough to come out on top of the situation.
Smiling wickedly, she paused at the door and sprayed herself with a light burst of perfumed oil fragranced with musk, poppy and jasmine.
And then she was out. It gave her a small feeling of satisfaction to note the baffled and amazed expressions on the faces of her lessers as she swept regally past them in the corridor, perfectly attired and made up, and smelling of heady nights in the harem gardens. Perhaps the thing that astounded them the most would be that they panicked and wailed as they watched what could be the end of everything, while Asima maintained her usual calm composure. She knew some of the younger girls had spread a rumour that she wasn’t entirely human and she had done nothing to discourage the talk. A little mystery and fear all added to her power.
Leaving the gaggle of hysterical women behind her, Asima strode along the corridor, down the two flights of stairs and out from the hall, through the decorative archway and into the central courtyard.
As she approached the main exit of the harem in its dark, recessed tunnel, one of the eunuch doormen, armed with a long, curved knife, stepped in front of the door. He looked distinctly unsure of his situation and had to glare at his companion guard and motion before the other eunuch joined him. Asima came to a halt a few feet from them and folded her arms defiantly.
“A thousand pardons, lady Asima, but you know the rules.”
Asima laughed with absolutely no humour.
“Get out of my way, you pointless, poisonous half-man!”
The eunuch stayed where he was, a shocked expression spreading across his face. Asima sighed.
“In case you were unaware, we are being attacked by a force of traitors by sea and therefore almost certainly by land as well. If Akkad is about to fall I will stand by the side of my God-King and face it with him.”
The humourless smile returned.
“If you do not step aside, I will take your knives and use them to remove any parts of you that still protrude.”
The guards, likely awed by her reputation as much as her ferocity, shared a look and wisely turned the gate key before stepping aside.
Delaying for a moment, she took the time to give the guards a good hard stare before striding away into the night. The trick was in paying attention and devoting time to the details. That one last glance would stay with the guards for years and add to her reputation, so long as there was a future for her reputation to carry into.
The gardens were strangely quiet and yet busy. As Asima strode with purpose along the direct path to the royal residence, she saw small groups of servants and guards going quickly and resolutely about their business in a worried silence. And yet, despite the flurries of activity everywhere, the only noises she could hear came from outside the walls: crashes and bangs out to sea and what sounded like vicious fighting in the city beyond the palace gate.
Without paying to too much attention to what was happening close around her, Asima set her sights on the building ahead and made for the entrance. As she approached, the door opened and three servants rushed off toward the public palace, carrying bundles of something.
For a moment, Asima wondered whether she had been premature. Perhaps the God-King was in one of the palaces rather than his residence, tending to affairs. Perhaps, given his strength and abilities, he was armoured already and helping defend the palace.
No. The guards would not allow him to put himself in danger. He would be in the safest place in Akkad.
Striding purposefully, Asima pulled open the door to the residence of the God-King. The entrance hall was filled from side to side with heavily armed and armoured soldiers of the royal guard, archers positioned on the balconies above. The guard were clearly taking no chances of the enemy reaching their master.
As she walked toward the line of steel and bronze, she glanced into the side chambers and noted with satisfaction archers and soldiers positioned at all the windows. The building was well defended. Behind her she heard movement and, glancing back over her shoulder, she noted with approval the four guards lifting the heavy beams that would fall into grooves and bar the door in a moment.
Hardly premature. Just in time, in fact.
The captain in command of the guard gave a military half-bow as he recognised the royal concubine approaching and, with a curt command, the soldiers parted to allow her through. She glared at the captain and he was taken aback, blinking for a moment before recovering himself and straightening.
“Ma’am?”
“You just let me through without a single question?”
The captain cleared his throat, aware that somehow he was now treading a fine line.
“Ma’am? You are concubine and favoured of the God-King.”
Asima growled.
“We are being attacked by Pelasians, captain. No one should be trusted.”
