Unveiling the Sorceress

Sibias shrugged. “Soon he will have his future wife by his side. That will keep him otherwise occupied."

"Indeed,” Amshazar interjected. “The Empress Mehmet should remember the more important events that will be upon us soon, and overlook this minor indiscretion."

"Overlook it, again,” she replied, reminding them that this was not the first time her wayward son had been discovered with his roving eye set outside her jurisdiction. She tugged restlessly at the ornate amulet that hung around her neck.

Amshazar looked at the pendant, quickly scrutinizing it. The vapors it held moved more restlessly than ever, as if feeding off her mood. It emanated dark and unruly power, the restless presence of the forces captured within the vial causing ripples in the atmosphere. Amshazar had long since guessed the contents, and made himself aware of its state of flux at times like this. He would be much happier if it were not Mehmet who owned such an object.

Mehmet was waiting for a response. Amshazar gave a subtle nod, acknowledging her comment, keeping his expression impassive. Mehmet let out a disgruntled snort, annoyed that her attack had been cut short. Hanrah stood up, realizing the argument had been averted.

"Get out of my sight,” she declared, waving her arm in the air, as if her son were a fly that had landed on her.

He smiled amiably at Amshazar and raced toward the door, closely followed by the other attendants who also took their moment to escape the scene.

"Will you never learn?” Sibias muttered, when they were out of her hearing. Hanrah threw him a warning glance—he resented taking instructions from his mother's favored advisor, preferring to speak with his own.

"You could at least be more cautious, to avoid discovery,” Amshazar added, eyeing the deviant urchin-leader with amusement. He believed that Hanrah had it in him to be a better ruler than his widowed mother gave him credit for, but guiding the young man under her watchful eye was no easy task.

"'Shazar, I don't know how she found out,” Hanrah replied, his expression perturbed, as if he had begun to question it himself.

Sibias mumbled a hurried goodbye and left the pair of them. Amshazar noted the older man's change of mood. He obviously knew that Mehmet was having Hanrah watched. It was likely that she was having everyone in the palace watched. It took one to know one, and A

mshazar was as much a watcher as she, although his motives were different.

Amshazar knew that she called him a “spathaka,” behind his back, for she considered him a spy within her midst, although there was little she could do about it. The friendship between himself and Hanrah continued to be her only concession to her son, one that she allowed unwillingly.

Once Sibias had gone, Hanrah grew tense and gripped Amshazar's arm. “What of my friend, Kazeen?” His eyes looked haunted. “My mother will have him hunted down and murdered. I told him to run, I can only hope he understood. Can you help him ... for me?"

He clearly cared deeply for the slave who had caused this latest harangue. Amshazar nodded, but did not want to say too much just then, in case they were being observed. “Come, let us sup together, we can discuss it privately."

"Thank you, friend.” Hanrah spoke humbly.

Resting his hand on Hanrah's shoulder, Amshazar tried to distract him from the subject until they were alone. “We must raise a goblet together, for tomorrow I leave to collect your future wife."

The smaller man responded with a faint, wary smile and a nod. “I wonder what she will be like,” he said, as they walked on.

Amshazar did not reply. From what he had heard said of the Empress Elishiba, she had an intelligent mind and a fiercely strong warrior-heart. She was also wise enough to fight for her country's place in the hierarchy, a fact that had brought her under the scrutiny of the gods.

Yes, she would be good meat for Mehmet, he thought to himself, with much anticipation.

EXCERPT

Chapter Two

lishiba was ready for them. She smiled to herself as she stripped off her clothing and walked down the steps into her bathing pool. On the ebb of evening, songbirds had gathered in the tranquil courtyard outside her apartments, and she granted their songs a secret audience while she thought through her strategy. She'd settled upon a plan. It relied on her bravery and her wit in the heat of the moment, but if all else failed, she would be in their court. She would die for her cause, if it came to it. She would fight to protect her people, no matter what.

As the water embraced her body, she melted into it, watching as the light lowering across the opposite wall of the chamber charted the passage of the sun sinking in the sky. She leaned her head back on the ledge of the bathing pool and moved her arms in slow circles. The flower petals moving over the surface of the water exuded a heady scent and she floated in the perfumed water intoxicated by the atmosphere.

The pool was adorned with the treasures of their province, and her fingers traced the ornate lapis lazuli and turquoise inlaid tiles around the edge of the huge bathing pool. Her fingers knew the shape of the stones as well as the lines of her own body. These were the valuable stones that made Aleem a popular trading post between lands near and far.

A sound captured her attention, and Elishiba rolled her head to glance after it. Elra, her handmaid, was moving quietly at one side, arranging the oils and cosmetics her mistress would need when she emerged from bathing. Her twin sister, Amra, moved gracefully beside a screen, laying out the vivid silken tunic and copper waistband that Elishiba had requested to wear that evening.

Elishiba watched their graceful movements. Their waist-length hair, the color of ripe dates, moved in silken ripples as they swayed with the innate sensuousness of the harem women they resembled. They mirrored each other in their gestures, as they did in so much else. Their voluptuous figures and attractive features were so identical that Elishiba had them wear sashes to tell them apart. Elra wore a bind of indigo across her body, and Amra a scarlet. Sometimes she thought of them as one woman, two halves of the same, perfect creature. In their sisterly affections they reminded her of a happy child, caught kissing its own reflection in the looking glass.

Amra turned to her mistress and gave a gentle smile. “Do you wish to wear the jewels of pageant during the festivities tonight?"

Elishiba pondered the question. The visitors she and her father were receiving were an unknown quantity, and they hosted them with caution, for it was the greeting party representing Karseedia that was due to arrive that day. These were the designated acolytes of Hanrah and his mother, the dowager Empress, Mehmet. They were the men who were to escort her back to their land, her new home.

"No, the simple lapis. We shall exhibit the wealth of our land, but not so much that it indicates willingness to share it with them."