Unveiling the Sorceress

"You are to meet him on your balcony at dawn. Go as if to take some air. Don't be obvious."

Elishiba stayed still for a single moment while the message sank in, then she rose, pulling order into her clothing.

Yoshi chuckled. “It is not yet dawn, mistress."

"It will be, soon enough. I need to get some air."

Yoshi lay back on the bed. Elishiba could see her smiling into the gloom as she settled onto the pillows.

"You are clearly struck by love, empress,” she whispered.

Elishiba lifted one hand to stop her. “Yoshi,” she hissed under her breath. “Now is not the time to torture me with your pronouncements. We are in grave danger here. I hope that Amshazar comes to speak with me because he intends to bring helpful advice. Now hush and get some rest."

Yoshi yawned and nestled down to doze, her smile apparently fixed on her face.

Elishiba ran her fingers through her hair and then strolled toward the balcony. She glanced up at the decorative frieze on the wall as she went. They had seen a light moving there earlier that night, after they had blown out the candles. All was still and dark up there now. It didn't prove anything, and she tried to look as natural as possible as she stepped outside.

There was a distant haze at the very edge of the sky, and the smell of dawn was in the air, as if the atmosphere was already changing the state of the earth with the rising sun. She walked to the edge of the balcony. As she'd noticed earlier, there was no balcony to right or left, or above. The one below was closed and shuttered. The wall behind her ran up to a decorative top, as if that were the roof.

Their meeting was arranged; yet now she felt its impossibility—as well as the danger closing in on them. She'd been denied more than one visitor of her own kind, surely the mysterious nomad would not be allowed access. And if he somehow made his way through the labyrinthine passages of the palace to her, what chance would they have to speak before Mehmet's people discovered him and tore them apart?

How would he reach her? Through sorcery?

Believe and it will be possible, she told herself, remembering their time together in the desert, the fantastic feats he had shown her she could achieve.

She stood at the edge of the balcony and put her faith in Sevita, the goddess who had led her to an understanding of herself. Pleading with her inner image of the love goddess, she asked Sevita to give their meeting her blessing and shelter it; silently chanting a mantra of devotions.

After a few moments the sky lightened. She heard her name being whispered and looked up toward the sound. In the pale dawn light, she saw that Amshazar was leaning over the decorative wall above. She broke into a relieved smile.

"You did well to insist upon a balcony, empress.” He smiled back at her, and then rolled a rope ladder over the precipice. It unfurled down to her, and he gestured for her to climb up to him.

She grasped it, climbing up to him as quickly as she could. It made her think of her strange dream, and yet this time she closed on him quickly and readily took his offered hand when he reached over to her. “I thought you might have to use sorcery to reach me,” she commented.

"A rope ladder sufficed in this case. We must always use our skills judiciously, asking ourselves if the gods would approve.” As he helped her over the edge, he added: “And where you are concerned I fear I grow selfish in my need to see you.” There was a jest in his tone, but truth too.

She felt her face heat with pleasure at his remark, and glanced around to distract herself from the self-awareness and arousal he caused in her. She saw that the roof was staggered and there was indeed a room above theirs. She peered into it, trying to see where they were. Heavy curtains had been pushed open at the shutters. There were dusty and threadbare. Beyond that, she could see an old armchair, its leather skin torn, horsehair stuffing seeping out.

"Will we be discovered together here?” she asked.

"Don't worry, there is no one around. The room is an attic where ancient scrolls are kept. They are not used often,” he said wryly. “Hanrah's father collected them from the lands he raided. He kept them for their value, but the Karseedians are more inclined to instinct than intellect, as you might have noticed."

His words amused her. “Yes, indeed. There was little thought put into our initial meeting with the emperor.” She smiled. It was good to see him, to be this close to him again. “I'm sorry I could not speak with you yesterday,” she added, because guilt had stolen into her heart. “That I doubted..."

"You needed time, I understood that.” He looked into her eyes, searchingly. He had not removed his hand from her waist, where he steadied her. “How are you now?"

She gave a soft lau

gh. “Surprisingly level-headed, given the circumstances. It is not how I expected to feel. At home, in Suzin, I was so confused by all of this. I thought I might be more easily swayed, and yet it is now that I feel I see most clearly."

"Looking into the enemy's eyes can do that to a person."

"She is an enemy, isn't she? Of the most despicable kind ... Mehmet is the one controlling all of this, isn't she?"

"Yes, but you needed to see that yourself to understand it. I don't want you to be here, to do this, but it had to be so."

She understood. “I know. But I cannot agree to these terms. I cannot marry Hanrah without fair negotiation. It is what we were promised in my coming here, and yet I feel as if I have been very foolish and have led those closest to me into a dreadful trap.” She glanced at him to see his reaction to this most dreadful of her fears.

He put his hand behind her shoulder and ushered her toward the shelter of the room. “A battle or war can take many forms. If you had refused to compromise in any way, Karseedia would have attacked without warning. You took this step to avoid your people being subjected to such a battle. Sometimes it is necessary to walk into a trap to push things along. You have taken a leading step, that means you have some control in the situation."