and who must wait until another night.'
Kalasariz grinned. All of Esmir knows of your prowess, Majesty, he said.
He regarded Leiria. The moment he'd first seen her cast adoring eyes on Safar he'd known he could make use of her one day. It was his fine fortune Safar had betrayed her, giving Leiria good reason to seek revenge. Otherwise, kingly orders or not, he wouldn't have trusted her reports about Safar's activities.
'I don't think we have any further need for you at this moment, Leiria, he said, dismissing her. You may report to me at the same time tomorrow.'
Leiria touched hand to sword hilt and bowed in the military manner.
'Very good, My Lord, she said, and exited.
Protarus stared after her, thinking. Then he said, This Fatinah must be an amazing creature to have Safar so spellbound.'
'She is quite beautiful, Majesty, Kalasariz said. I wouldn't mind giving her a tumble myself.'
'I doubt if you'll have the opportunity, Protarus said. Lord Timura has asked me for permission to wed her.'
Kalasariz eyebrows rose. Will you give it, Majesty?'
'I don't see how I can deny him, Protarus answered. It's a routine request my courtiers are required to make by law. I've never said no to anyone yet.'
'But we know nothing about this woman, Majesty, Kalasariz said. This fact alone should make us be wary. My spies have sought information about her all over Esmir. To no avail. Apparently she just suddenly appeared one day. A rich noblewoman no one ever heard of before.'
'And she has a child, Protarus said.
'Yes, but whose child is it, Majesty? That too is a mystery.'
'I can't imagine any man wanting to wed a woman who was bred to another, the king said. Beautiful though she may be.'
'My sentiments exactly, Majesty, Kalasariz said. Considering everything else, it tends to add to my suspicions.'
'You think she is dangerous?'
'I know of no other woman like her in Esmir, Kalasariz said. Somehow she's made herself extremely rich. From all reports she becomes richer by the day through shrewd business dealings. She answered to no man, at least until she entered Lord Timura's life. And it's my guess she doesn't answer to him either.'
'Do you think she advises him?'
'That would be a safe assumption, Majesty. She's certainly a strong willed woman. And ambitious.'
Protarus stirred, rapping his rings against the throne.
Then, Yes, she would be, wouldn't she? She has my Grand Wazier in her thrall. What next?'
'Yes, Majesty, Kalasariz said. What next?'
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
The Grand Palace of Zanzair was a place of haunted chambers, cries in the night and conspiratorial whispers blowing like dry winds down the dark corridors. It reeked of centuries of intrigue and betrayal. Much blood had been shed over the years and there were places where the stone floors still bore murder's black stain.
Many kings had risen and many had fallen in that palace, but there were no noble monuments to mark their passing. Assassins were the dark messengers of each reign's end. A royal head posted at the main gates marked each beginning. And the first to praise the new monarch's name were feasting ravens.
Now Iraj Protarus was king and the intrigue and betrayal continued as before. Safar could smell the danger when he walked through the big main doors, sentries coming to attention and saluting the Grand Wazier. There was a sulfurous stink of dark magic in the air and under his formal tunic the stone idol sparked warning.
There was nothing unusual about Safar being summoned to a meeting with King Protarus, but as he strode through the palaceLeiria a few paces behindmany eyes turned his way. Some looked speculative, some glinted hatred, and somethe largest number, he hopedappeared sympathetic.
As he approached the door of Iraj's private quarters it came open and three beings, their backs to him, bowing and humbly excusing themselves to His Gracious Majesty made their way out.
A sentry closed the door and they turned, each reacting in a different manner when they saw Safar standing there.
The first, Kalasariz, was cheery. Good morning, Lord Timura, he said. I hope this day finds you well.'
'Well enough, thank you, Safar said, nodding at the hammer-faced spymaster.
The second, King Luka, was arrogant. Grand Wazier, he said, only those two words and a nod of his demonly head noting Safar's presence.
Safar nodded in return, but said nothing.
The third, Lord Fari, was nervous. How good to see you, Lord Timura, he said. It's been long since I've had the pleasure of your company. Perhaps you would grace my humble home for dinner some evening?'
Safar dipped his head in a slight bow. It would be an honor to be your guest, My Lord, he said.
Fari quivered, a jolt of alarm showing in his yellow eyes. Quite, quite, the old demon said. Of course, you are always so busy with your duties as Grand Wazier I suspect, alas, it will be a long time before you are able to attend.'
'I'm never too busy for you, Lord Fari, Safar said. He couldn't resist the tease.
Fari clacked his talons together, distressed. I'll have my clerk speak to your clerk, he said, and arrange a convenient evening.'
'Thank you, My Lord, Safar said, making another slight bow. I eagerly await your kind invitation.'
The sentry appeared, motioning for Safar to enter the king's chambers. He made his polite farewells to the three and went inleaving Leiria waiting in the hallway outside.
Iraj was at his desk, looking over some reports. At least he appeared to be. His head was down, paper documents were in front of him, but his focus was on one spot instead of sweeping across words or numbers, betraying his pretense of being totally absorbed in his royal duties.
Safar cleared his throat and Iraj's head came up. He smiled. But his eyes seemed cold.
'Ah, there you are, Safar, he said. Get a drink. Make yourself comfortable.'
Safar sat and poured himself a cup of brandy from the spirits service on the desk.
Iraj pretended to go back to the report, but his bejeweled fingers gave him away, rap, rap, rapping on the arm of the chair.
Finally, Iraj nodded, slapped the report down and raised his head to regard Safar.
'This is a little difficult for me, Safar, he said. But I need to speak to you man to manand as a friend.'
Safar felt the stone idol glow warmer, uncomfortably so.
He smiled, saying, Always, Iraj.'
'It's about this marriage request of yours to the Lady Fatinah.'
'What about it?'
'Are you sure this is wise, old friend? Iraj asked. I understand she is a beauty. And I congratulate you on your taste. But marriage!'
'I love her, Iraj, Safar said. In Kyrania, marriage almost always follows love.'
Iraj gave a nervous laugh. That was Kyrania, he said. You're no longer a common potter's lad. You are the Grand Waziersecond only to me in importance. You can have any woman you want. For your bed, or for marriage for that matter.'
'I know that, Iraj, Safar said. And it's Lady Fatinah I choose for both.'
'But she may not be suitable for you, Iraj said, beautiful though she may be.'
'To me she's more than any potter's lad, as you put it, could possibly deserve. Meaning, she loves me too. What other requirement should I ask of a woman?'
'Here's what I think, Iraj said, leaning across the desk. This is a mere romantic attachment. You know you have
