"There have been none," she assured in her smoky voice. "I am simply telling you that I can lie with whomever I choose. You are not married?"

He felt a presence at his side and glanced around to see Salim and the Vizier approaching.

Salim answered his daughter. "His heart hurts for someone, Ganya, but the Spur is unmarried, to my knowledge."

"Ah," she said, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "I can ease that pain." She and Salim both laughed softly.

Lazar had not ever before been propositioned in quite so direct or confident a manner. He was excited and yet slightly unnerved by Ganya.

"What are you talking about, Lazar?" Maliz asked, irritation at not being able to understand in his voice.

Lazar turned and regarded the impostor. Ganya was his chance! She provided the opportunity to get to Iridor. He allowed the hint of a lascivious grin to crease his face. "Seems as though I'm the lucky one, Grand Vizier," he answered. "I've been offered a proposal I'm not sure I can turn down."

It obviously didn't take much for Maliz to read the body language and appreciate the sensuous atmosphere that hovered around the dancer or understand the Spur's innuendo. "They're offering her to you?" There was a note of envy in the Grand Vizier's voice.

Lazar shrugged now. "She alone makes the offer, Tariq. Salim here tells me it would be impolite to refuse."

"All part of the desert hospitality, I suppose?" Maliz finished archly.

"I suppose. I for one will not turn her down. Would you?" He grinned again, fiercely this time, then lifted his eyebrows in query.

"No, Spur. I certainly wouldn't. Enjoy." The Grand Vizier moved away.

Lazar, his heart hammering, quickly returned his attention to the Khalid pair beside him.

"Well, Spur?" Ganya said, her voice husky.

"How can I refuse such delectable Khalid hospitality?" he asked, palms wide in resignation.

Ganya gave a knowing smile. "Follow me," was all she said.

Salim clapped his hands and laughed. "I should tell you, Lazar, that Ganya is our tribe's lajka."

Lazar frowned, watching the woman move away toward the dunes. "Lajka?"

"Our dreamer," the man qualified. "She sees things. She is very special. You should be honored that she has chosen you."

"Indeed. Salim, I want you to make sure that we are left alone."

The man nodded, his expression saying that Lazar was stating the obvious.

"No, really, I need to be left entirely alone with Ganya. Do not let the Grand Vizier follow me under any circumstances, no matter how much he protests." Now Salim was frowning. "He will try, my friend. Tell him Ganya will bring bad luck down upon him, threaten him. Restrain him if you must."

Salim nodded again, looking slightly bewildered.

Lazar moved quickly toward Boaz. "Fayiz, I am going with this woman. Look after Jumo."

"What?"

"Make no fuss, my Zar," Lazar whispered, "It is important."

"Lazar! Is this dangerous?"

"No! But keep Tariq occupied as best you can. I don't want him following me."

Boaz nodded, confusion creasing his brow. "I trust you."

Lazar inclined his head with thanks and strode to catch up with Ganya. The Khalid folk began to clap and whistle as the pair left the light of the fire.

I hope you're paying attention, Iridor, Lazar thought, because this is our only chance.

Iridor watched keenly as his friend spoke to the person he had to presume was Boaz, who, except for his tall and slight build, looked almost unrecognizable in desert garb. He could see that Lazar was breaking from the main pack, following the magnificent dancer into the darkness. That must be the sign, he realized. This would be their chance.

He took off from the vantage of the dune and flew a long way around toward the direction in which Lazar headed, careful that he didn't risk exposing himself.

17.

Arafanz was sitting by her side. "Should I fetch someone? The old man who took care of your bathing has delivered babies in his time."

She recalled old Soraz with a soft smile as she took Arafanz's hand. "Don't look so worried. Lyana will take care of me. It is too early. These are warning pains, that's allat least I think they are. And if the baby comes early, he will come with or without anyone's permission. Let us face that when it happens. He knows what to do and my body will guide me." He bowed his head and Ana felt her heart go out to him. When he was like thisso tender, so caringhe was irresistible. "It is kind of you to bring me to your room."

"I want to be able to watch you. You scared me today."

"Are you sure you want to give up your bed? I could easily"

He lifted his gaze to hers. "Ana, I could sleep on the hard ground for all the difference it would make to me! I am mindful, however, that you should be in a real bed, not this desert pallet."

"Perhaps you forget that I, too, am of the desert, Arafanz. I spent the first thirteen summers of my life sleeping on the ground."

"We are more suited than we give each other credit for, then," he replied in an attempt to lighten the leaden atmosphere.

Neither of them smiled.

"Do you regret your part in this?" she asked gently.

He shook his head miserably. "No," he answered with vehemence. "But I regret yours."

"What do you mean?"

"I wish you weren't involved. Why couldn't you be like the Valide, for instance? Then it would be easy to carry out my task and to feel nothing for you."

"How do you feel?" The question tumbled from her mouth before she could censure herself. She regretted her rashness immediately; she was opening up a pathway to him that should remain closed.

His gaze fell again and he looked to Ana like a wounded animal awaiting the fall of an ax. "I feel despair."

Ana knew what he meant but tried to backtrack, twist his meaning. "You're frightened of what's ahead."

"No," he said again, "that's not it. I am not frightened of what's ahead, other than losing you."

"Arafanz, there is no"

"I know, don't say it. You've undone me enough. These past few months have allowed me to glimpse how life might have been."

Ana smiled in spite of herself. "Do you truly believe anyone lives like this out in the desert?" she asked, gesturing about the dimly lit but nonetheless attractive chamber.

His mouth twitched in an attempt at a grin. "It is unusual here, I admit, but I sense you have enjoyed your time nonetheless."

"I would be lying to you if I said anything other than I have never felt more at peace with myself." She looked away, hoping the conversation might end.

But Arafanz persisted. "Happy?"

His gaze was fierce; his eyes had a burning intensity that seemed to make the brighter flecks in his irises glow as if they were illuminated. They demanded that she answer truthfully. "Yes, I'm happy but"

Arafanz leaned forward and coverered her mouth with his own. She was so shocked by his sudden movement, and then absorbed by all the sensations his lips exploring hers provoked, that she could not pull away. As Arafanz deepened his kiss, Ana's addled thoughts swirled guiltily toward Lazar. She realized she could never confuse the two men. With Lazar there was such hunger, such longing in their intimacy. With Arafanz she felt only tenderness...and a surge of sorrow. This needed to stopnow!

One of the candles that Arafanz had lit around the room suddenly guttered. Ana broke apart from him and immediately both of them looked at the smoking wick, an ominous sign.

"We mustn't, please, Arafanz," Ana said, feeling instantly fearful.

"Do you subscribe to such childish superstitions? That was only a draft." He smiled.

She ignored his question. "This is not right," she replied instead, embarrassed by his amusement as much as relieved that the spell had been broken. And gone with it was the dangerous moment of abandon and enjoyment.

"Apologies, Ana. I hate myself for being so weak."

She shook her head sadly. "It is not weakness. It is life, Arafanz. It is normal to have feelings for anotheryou cannot expect yourself, or your men, to be celibate, especially cast together like this and in a battle we neither understand nor choose. But you and I are not normal, are we? We are pawns. We are being moved around and used. Our lives matter not in the great scheme of this battle. We do her bidding for the greater good and then we die." She grimaced again as a fresh contraction, soft but urgent, rippled through her body. It was uncomfortable, but now was not her birthing time, she was certain of it.

Arafanz wore a wounded expression. "It doesn't have to be like that, Ana. Perhaps"

"What? You take my son from me, you deliver him to Percheron, and you ride back to the desert for me...is that what you think? We can just pretend none of this happened? What of your struggle? Your men? Boaz? Did you think the Zar will accept his wife and Absolute Favorite living in the desert with a rebel who declares war on the Percherese people?"

Once again he held her gaze with an unflinching stare, all injury gone from his face now. His voice was brittle when it came. "But this is not about Percheron, or the Zar, duty or the battle for Lyana's supremacy, is it, Ana? Your reluctance is not even about your son, or the desert, or your conscience. This is about Spur Lazar, isn't it?"

She had nothing to gain from lying to him. "I love him, Arafanz. I have since the day I met himthe first moment I spied him from the window of our hut in the foothills, standing so proud, so deeply unhappy. I don't understand what has happened between you and me. But it cannot flourish. I would be insincere to you if I allowed this to continue."

"I should have killed him when I had my chance," he said sourly.

"You don't mean that. You let him live for good reason. As you said, you both fight for the same cause, even though Lazar does so unwittingly."

"Be very sure, Ana. If Lazar tries to stop me in my mission, I will kill him."

"I know you will try."

He nodded. "Then please forgive my indiscretion."

Ana reached for his arm. "Arafanz, wait. Please." He looked back at her and she could see pain in his eyes that he was trying to hide. "My heart is not hardened toward you. I need you to know that. In a different life, a different situation, I would live in the desert with you and I would not regret a day of it. We were meant to meet. But we were never meant to be lovers."

"Are you referring again to the omen of the candle...the hidden message; perhaps Lyana speaking to us?"

His sarcasm bit but she ignored it. "I do not refer to the candle, but Lyana has spoken to me."

"The pillars?"

She shook her head. "No. Have you heard of the Raven? The bird of omens?"

He frowned, shrugged. "It means nothing to me. What is it?"

"It is a he. This time he was Kett, a slave at the palace, and now I realize poor Kett was destined to join the harem."

"And what does this Kett have to do with me? Do I have to meet him?"

"Kett is dead. He drowned alongside me."

"Ah, I know now to whom you refer. Why are you telling me about him?"

She looked up, fixed him with a stare. "Because he told me about you."

"What?"

"He told me to find the rebelyes, that's what he said. I'm only properly remembering it now; it was meaningless to me at the time of his death. Find the rebel, he urged me. And now I know that you are the rebel. We were predestined to meet, to know each other, but he said nothing about your importance to me or that we should be together. The truth is, Arafanz, I have my journey and you have yours. They are interwined but not in the manner of lovers. Whatever your role is, it is very separate from mine."

He nodded. "Finding myself so attached to you is painful, but it's true, I cannot be deterred from my life's mission. I despise all that Percheron has become, Ana. Fat, lazy, carnal, and without a guiding faith that means something. Zarab's way is indulgent, rather than nurturing. The Percherese have become soft. Crime and sin are rife. Have you seen the moneylenders and marketeers selling their wares outside the temples? Do people pray anymore? Do they hold true to a faith that guides them, inspires them, ensures they look behind them and offer help to someone who has fallen down?"

"I have no fight with your spiritual path, Arafanz. I uphold your faith and your desire to bring Percheron back to Lyana's Light. But I fear the bloodshed and death that you accept to achieve that. I could never go along with that reasoning, that the end justifies the means."

He smiled, stroked her cheek fondly. "You speak as though you are several decades older than you are."

"Boaz is a good Zar. Given the chance and the right support, he could be Percheron's greatest ruler. He has modern thinking but he is respectful of the old ways, the ancient thinking. He is a man of Zarab because that's how he was raised and yet his mind inquires toward Lyana."

"All very admirable, Ana, but"

"Give him a chance. He has sat his throne for barely sixteen or seventeen moons. He learns fast, he is his own man. Let him grow into his role"

"No! Your son will be Zar. He will outlaw Zarabism from the first day of his rule. And the present royal family and all the palace hierarchy will be put to death. We will start again through this baby," Arafanz said passionately, pointing to her belly. "I will set the terms of his rule and I will choose who acts as Zar Regent until your son is of age."

"When you are like this, it is hard for me to feel anything for you but contempt."

"Then you are fortunate, Ana." He kissed her hand and stood. "I wish I could feel that way toward you. Now rest. Your son must arrive healthy or all is lost."

Lazar led Ganya as far from the campsite as he dared.

"You obviously want privacy." She smirked when he finally pulled her around the back of a smallish dune. It was so dark he could barely make her out, for there was little moonlight tonight. "What did you have in mind?" she asked as he felt her arms around his neck.