Iraj glowered at the man, who visibly shrank under the glare. If you ever dare question me again, sir, the king said, it'll be your head on one of those blocks. Do as I commanded! At once!'
The aides rushed off to his bidding. A few moments later horns blared, orders were shouted, and the chains were stricken from the limbs of the people of Sampitay. They fell to their knees, weeping and shouting praises to the heavens, thanking the gods and Protarus for sparing them.
Safar watched, thinking it was Methydia they should be thanking, not Protarus.
'To be frank, my friend, Iraj said, I am relieved to grant you this favor. Viewing mass executions, much less ordering them, is one of my least favorite duties.'
'Don't order them, then, Safar said.
Iraj's brow rose in surprise. His cheeks flushed. It was clear he was not used to be spoken to this way. Then he made a rueful smile.
'You speak honestly, he said. No one in my court dares do that. Which is what I lack most of all. A friend who dares to tell me what he truly believes.'
'Not an hour ago, Safar said, you asked me to join you. Do you still want my service?'
'Indeed I do, Iraj answered. But I don't want your answer now. I granted you a favor. It wouldn't be right to ask one in return. It would be a stain on our friendship.'
'You'll have my answer just the same, Safar said. And it won't be a favor I'm granting you. I will join you, freely and gladly. All I ask is that you listen to my advice, which I will give you as honestly as I can.'
'Done! Iraj said, face lighting up.
He thrust out his hand. Take it, my brother, he said. And I will lift you as high as it is in my powers to do.'
Safar clasped his hand.
Iraj said, Safar Timura, son of a potter, wizard of the High Caravans, I, King Iraj Protarus, proclaim you Grand Wazier. From this moment on you are the highest of the high in my realm.
'And you may command all but myself.'
Safar felt the world turn about. It was as if a great circus master had spun the Great Wheel of the Fates. Safar was strapped to it, his head the arrow point, spinning, spinning, spinning. And he heard the circus master's cry, Around and around he goes… and where he stops… the gods only know!'
Safar gripped Iraj's hand tighter, partly to steady himself, but mostly to keep himself from snatching his own hand away. He wanted nothing of this. His greatest desire was to climb aboard the Cloudship with Biner and Arlain and the others and flee this place, this fate.
But the Cloudship was no more.
And he had made a promise to Methydia.
Safar steeled his nerve and said as firmly as he could: I accept.'
That night Iraj called his court into session. There was a small ceremony to proclaim Safar Grand Wazier.
The faces of the king's officers and courtiers were all a blur to Safar. He could pick out only a few. Some were friendly. Some were not. Mostly, there were only looks of curiosity and awe.
Who was this man who had been lifted so high, so quickly?
Did his presence bode ill, or fair?
Late in the night Safar dreamed that Methydia came to him.
In his dream he felt soft hands caressing him. He opened his eyes and saw Methydia's face and Methydia's slender body poised over him. He cried out her name and crushed to her to him. They made love, a floaty love like they were aboard the Cloudship once again. Then the Cloudship burst into flames, plunging for the earth and they clasped one another, riding the fire in an endless fall.
When he awoke in the morning Safar found Leiria snuggled in the crook of his arm, smiling in her sleep.
Feeling like a traitor, he gently tried to extract his arm. But Leiria came awake, purring and sloe-eyed and clutching him closer.
He untangled her politely, but firmly. I have duties to attend to, he said.
At first Leiria pouted, then she giggled and got up, saying, I mustn't be selfish and take all your strength, my lord.'
Safar managed a faint smile for an answer.
She starting pulling on clothes. You called out another woman's name in the night, she said. Her tones were light, but Safar could sense hurt in them. Was she the one who died?'
'Yes, Safar answered softly.
Leiria shrugged. I don't mind, she said. It's good that your heart is faithful. She had her head down, concentrating hard on buckling on her weapons. The king has ordered me to comfort you and guard you with my life.'
She raised her head and Safar saw tears in her eyes. The king orders, she said, but I do it gladly. I will guard you and I will be this other woman for you for as long as you like.
'And perhaps someday it will be my name you speak instead of… hers.'
Safar didn't know what to say. From the look on her face a word either way might cause a flood of tears. She would despise him for humiliating her.
So all he said was, You honor me, Leiria.'
Weak as that reply was, she seemed to find satisfaction in it. She nodded, finished her dressing, then kissed hima quick peck on the cheekand left.
Safar looked after her wondering how much was artifice and how much was truly meant.
And how much would she tell Iraj?
It wasn't long before Safar had a chance to test those questions. He'd barely had time to snatch a quick meal and don his clothes before Iraj summoned him.
Leiria was his guide and guard as he made his hasty way into the king's presence. She gave no hint of the night they'd had together. Her bearing was professional and military, her manner courteous and respectful.
When they came to the king's rooms he didn't have to undergo the usual search for weapons and was instantly swept inside. Iraj was seated in a simple camp chair, maps and charts spread out on a small table in front of him.
When he saw Safar he said, It seems my little gift to you has caused all sorts of trouble, my friend.'
Safar forced himself not to look at Leiria. What ever do you mean, Iraj? he asked.
Iraj tapped one of the maps. I'm planning our next campaign, he said, to Safar's immense relief. Winter is coming on and there isn't much time.'
'What's the problem? Safar asked. And how was I the cause of it?'
'Sampitay is the problem, Iraj answered. Now that I've given it back to its people, as you requested, I'll have those same people at my back when we march again.'
'What makes you think they'll be a danger to you? Safar asked.
'What makes you think they won't? was Iraj's reply, eyes narrowing.
'Aren't you going to garrison the city, Safar asked and put one of your own men in charge?'
'Garrisons are trebly expensive, Iraj said. They cost money, soldiers, and good officers to run them.'
'Yesterday, Safar said, I offered reasons for my request. You kindly chose not to hear. I'd like to offer them again.'
Iraj nodded. Go ahead, he said.
'Sampitay is one of the richest cities in Esmir, Safar pointed out. The source of its wealth, as you know, is silk. But it takes highly skilled people to produce that silkskills few others in world possess outside Sampitay.
'So the people are worth more to you alive and free than dead or enslaved. Think of all the gold they'll pay in
