"I don't think so," Lazar replied, glancing across the sand toward Boaz, hoping the Zar would understand the look for help and find a way to distract his Grand Vizier without it appearing odd. Instead, Boaz looked away, moving toward his camel.

"Yes, you can help," Ganya began breathlessly, ignoring Lazar as well. "Lazar, translate this or I will somehow communicate to himand your younger friend, fiddling with his camel's strapsthat you raped me. Somehow I sense you would mind the boy knowing this, no?"

Lazar stared at her incredulous. "You cannot mean that. No one would believe you."

"And you could lie in the translation anyway," she said.

Their gazes locked, each of them neither angry at nor amused by the other. The standoff lengthened.

"You know I can help you with your friend," Ganya pressed, careful not to mention the owl or his name. "You both need protection. And your cause is more important than any of us."

Lazar nodded, although his expression told her he didn't fully agree with her final statement.

"Spur, I really must insist you explain what's happening," the Grand Vizier said, his exasperation spilling over.

"Tell the Vizier what I say," Ganya urged. "And trust me as I now trust you."

Lazar was hopelessly cornered and could see he would get no help from Salim, who was gently shaking his head.

She began, looking at the Grand Vizier. "Tell this man that I am not allowing my father to walk into danger without receiving all the right help we can possibly give him."

Lazar reluctantly turned to the Grand Vizier and gave a quick version of what Ganya expressed.

"Ask her to explain that, please," Maliz asked, more politely now.

"What did he say?" Ganya demanded, and Lazar translated through gritted teeth. She nodded. "Tell him I am this tribe's lajka and my father is the elder of our desert people and we are risking his life for the benefit of your Zar's wife."

"This man has no authority out here," Lazar said to her.

"Tell him all the same. Let him think that I consider him important."

Lazar did so and the Grand Vizier nodded. "I understand. How can we further minimize danger, then?" He glared at Lazar, who, frustrated, continued to act as interpreter.

After listening, Ganya replied, "By allowing me to join this party!"

Maliz heard her demand through Lazar and to his credit looked thoughtful. "Forgive me, but last night you danced for and lay with the Spur. I don't see how your presence adds anything more than...er, shall we say entertainment for him."

Her eyes narrowed as she regarded the Grand Vizier. "That may be, sir, but do you know what being a lajka means?"

Maliz shrugged at the question when Lazar posed it. "A fortune-teller, isn't it?"

Lazar told her the Grand Vizier's response. Father and Spur looked down as Ganya straightened, her expression instantly indignant. "It seems you need enlightening, sir. A lajka is a seer. A tribe is fortunate to find one of their own with the sight."

"Forgive me," Maliz said, a new respect in his tone that Lazar communicated. "Make sure she understands," he said to the Spur, before adding for her benefit, "I am indeed ignorant. And have you seen something?"

"Yes," she said, turning a fresh glare on Lazar. He could see where Ganya was taking this, and much as he didn't want another life to defend, especially one so precious as this one, he also knew this woman was likely the only real protection that he and Pez had against the demon.

"Last night as I 'lay' with the Spur," she began, loading the word with the same derision the Grand Vizier had, "I saw the way forward for you."

"What?" This had Maliz's attention. "What does she mean, Lazar?"

"I believe she's about to explain," Lazar replied.

She nodded. The man's reaction needed no interpretation. "Ask your Spur; it's easier than asking my father."

The Grand Vizier's gaze moved between the two men. "What does she mean?" he demanded.

Boaz sidled up to join the small group.

Lazar sighed. "She means that last night, in touching me, she could 'connect,' for want of a better word, with our mission. She knows what we seek and she can sense the direction we need to follow."

"But don't you know where we are going?"

"I know only that Ana was stolen and taken in a westerly direction," Lazar lied. Ganya was right. Warming to his task, he decided that if Salim was comfortable with Ganya's risk, then who was he to tell her how to live her life.

"And she knows differently?" Maliz queried.

Lazar nodded. "I'm slightly in awe of her, in fact. She gave me very clear directions for us to follow."

"She sees this?" Maliz spluttered, unable to hide his incredulity. "What sort of magic is this, Lazar? Do you expect us to believe it? Or is this some excuse you and she have cooked up so that you can have a warm body next to you during the cold desert nights?"

"Garjan." Boaz spoke up. "It is fortunate that these people do not understand us entirely, although I wouldn't hesitate to admonish you in front of them, whether it gave away our secret or not. Do not ever again let me hear you speak with such disdain to my Spur. He is my chosen guide and leader. In him I place all my faith. I place my life. You can neither protect me, fight for me, nor guide me to my wife. Lazar can. I demand that you show him respect." He said this all in a friendly way, taking such a subordinate tone that Lazar felt a whole new surge of admiration for his Zar. The young man was a born politician. If Joreb could see him now, he would smile from his tomb.

Boaz didn't wait for his Grand Vizier to respond. He turned directly to Lazar. "Can she help us find Ana?"

"Yes. But she is one more mouth to feed, one more life to protect."

"Then don't protect it," Boaz said more heartlessly than Lazar thought he was capable of. Neverthless the Spur kept his expression impassive as the Zar continued. "Tell her she is welcome to come with us and we will pay her people handsomely for the use of her skills. I presume you will have the dubious chore of a nightly meeting with her, Lazar, and you have my permission for that and the privacy it would require. As long as she takes us closer each day to the Zaradine, she can have whatever she wants. Come with me, Garjan."

"Thank you," Lazar replied softly, angered by Boaz's lack of care for Ganya, but still impressed that he'd managed to say all that he did without his tone ever changing from one of respect to his Spur. He ignored the Grand Vizier's scowl and turned to the patient Khalid pair. "We have discussed the matter, and if you insist on coming along, it must be your decision alone. I can offer no special protection."

"I didn't ask for it," Ganya replied curtly, flouncing away to fetch her few belongings.

Salim looked wryly at the Spur. "It seems my daughter is more fond of you than she cares to admit."

"Salim, I cannot"

"I know. I will talk to her. But she will insist on accompanying us. I know that look. Her mother taught her well."

Lazar twitched a grin. "She can see, that's the thing. I won't refuse her help."

"Then we give it gladly. It means we get closer to her brother with each day. But, Lazar, don't hurt her. She is lajka, yes, but first she is a beloved daughter of mine."

Lazar nodded. "I didn't tell my people the whole truth. Ganya and I do not need to...well, you know," he said, shrugging. "She only needs to hold my hand or touch a shoulder to use her powers."

Salim laughed. "That won't stop her, Spur. She has chosen her place in the sand. Now she intends to lie in it."

"I know," Lazar admitted, embarrassed, "I just wanted to assure you that I won't"

"You miss my point, Spur," the Khalid said, still amused. "I would be more disappointed if you didn't. This is what she wants. So long as you are honest with herI am her father, I want her happy. If being close to you keeps her happy and she can help me find my boy, then the winds are calmas we say in the desert."

"Your winds may be calm, Salim. Mine are blowing hard."

The Khalid chuckled. "The boy seems to speak his mind," he said casually, nodding toward Boaz.

"He is young, brash. Wanted to know what we were arguing about and then had the nerve to say his piece. He's lucky he didn't get a cuff around the ear for it," Lazar answered, moving toward his own camel.

Salim fell into step with him. "And yet you seemed attentive to his words, nonetheless."

Lazar gave his friend a sideways glance.

"I know, Spur. Shut up, Salim, and just trust you...and I do." This time the Khalid strode ahead, throwing a rueful glance back at his companion before he began barking orders to his people.

20.

Word had come back from the Galiseans but it was not as Herezah had anticipated.

"They said what?" she demanded.

Bin swallowed. "Crown Valide, it is difficult for us to comprehend precisely what the Galinseans are communicating. You understand that we are working through interpreters on both sides."

"Don't be fooled, Bin. King Falza, I'm assured, speaks Percherese, no matter how haltingly he might convey it. He is toying with us if he wants us to believe he needs to speak through vague translation. Don't believe it. Tell me again what was said."

"The messenger reports this message, Crown Valide: King Falza will meet with the Crown Valide of Percheron via another party. They wish this meeting to take place within the Stone Palace complex. I am taking our own interpretation now, Crown Valide, when I say that they understand that you may prefer not to have a Galinsean war delegation in the palace proper. Thus the King has agreed for the parley to occur on the Daramo River aboard barges."

"Aboard barges? He dares to tell us where and when and how?"

Bin looked nervous but remained steadfast. "Crown Valide, I'm not sure we're in a position to argue. It appears to me that the Galinseans are paying you quiet respect."

"Does it indeed?" she snarled, but his rationale caught her attention, impressed her with its insight. "Well, you're right in one respect: I don't have a choice. Set it up for tomorrow. The furthest point of the river, mind," she warned. "Is he sending this party alone?"

"An emissaryif we may call this person by such a titleplus one servant. You are permitted the same."

"I am permitted?" she repeated.

Bin stared at her, wide-eyed. "I am telling you only what has been communicated, Crown Valide. I would send many Elim if it were up to me. But you will be strong, Crown Valide, and the people of Percheron trust you to represent them with courage."

Bin's words appeased Herezah. He was right. She would show fortitude and she would not feel threatened but would instead be courteous and magnanimous in her dealings with the barbarians. "Fine. Set it up. Advise everyone you need to. Tell Elza and anyone else who needs to get me ready. And send for Salmeo but don't show him in immediately. Let him cool his heels outside until I'm ready to see him."

"Yes, Crown Valide, as you wish."

"Oh, and Bin?"

"Yes, Crown Valide?"

"Do we have a name for this party?"

"Yes," he said, and Herezah noticed his trepidation.

"Well? Don't stand there gawping at me, boy. What is his name?"

Bin took a breath. "It is a she, Crown Valide. Her name is Angeline."

It was Herezah's turn to suck in a breath. She swung around, momentarily speechless. Her voice finally pushed through the shock. "The Queen?" she asked, fright layering over her initial astonishment as her dream came back to haunt her.

Bin nodded. "So I am told, Crown Valide."

The smell of violets accompanied the swish of silks as Salmeo swept into her salon. He bowed, but only slightly, unable to pay the same kind of homage he was forced to give the Zar to a woman he saw at best as his equal, at worst as the most important slave of his harem. Although, if the Zaradine were alive, Herezah would be relegated to only second most important. This thought pleased him as he straightened.

"I thought it was urgent when you called for me, Valide."

"Did you? I lose track of time in this new role, Salmeo, but I have ordered some refreshment if that will console you."

He noticed the slight sneer and the lack of apology for keeping him waiting for nearly a bell's length. "And please call me Crown Valide. It is my proper title, as desired by the Zar. We must respect him in this," she said, her tone not quite hiding its sardonic edge.

A servant arrived with a tray and quickly laid out a jug with cups as Salmeo reined in his fury that had been stoked through the long wait in the corridor, his own Elim staring balefully at him and even the wretched Bin showing no apology in that impassive expression of his. "My apologies, Crown ValideI shall certainly adhere to your wishes, although I would respectfully caution that we mustn't get too used to the royal title. After all, your son will be gone only weeks and then it's sadly back to the harem for you and for Ana."

"If she's alive," Herezah commented, unfazed by his words of caution.

"Indeed. But you are alive, Crown Valide, and I would hate for you to feel any more unsettled than you already have since returning from the desert."

"It's my welfare that you care aboutis that what you're saying, Salmeo?" she queried, laughing.

He hated her calling him by his name, rather than by his title. Salmeo wasn't even his real name. His real nameYokabimeant "chieftain"..."king!"..."power!" Salmeo had been forced upon him by the slavers when he had refused to reveal his true name, given to him by his father, branded on his mother's back as proof that she had birthed a new king. He let none of these angry thoughts show on his well-arranged, calm expression.

"Crown Valide, I hope you will never question our longstanding relationship. We have known each for too many years." Salmeo could see by the way her eyebrows arched that Herezah understood precisely what his couched warning meant. But she clearly wanted him to say it in raw words.

"Are you threatening me, eunuch?"

"Threaten? Me, Crown Valide?" he asked, feigning injury. "Absolutely not. I am simply reiterating my loyalty to you. I will keep to myself what has passed between us certainly these past sixteen or seventeen moons, and I hope you will do me the same courtesy." He giggled softly. "We are, after all, a sister and brother of the harem. It is a world separate from the palacewe have our own rules, Crown Valide, our own ways."

"We must protect each other. Is that what you mean?"

"Precisely, Crown Valide. I'm glad we understand each other," he lisped, satisfied.

"I may understand you, eunuch, but you have to realize that my loyalties are being guidedno, demandedin a new direction. I am now directly responsible for the security and well-being of our realm. I am, to all intents and purposes, a queen, and I must act as autonomously as that role requires. I cannot be limited or swayed by the needs of the harem. I have moved beyond its boundaries."

"For now, Crown Valide," he counseled carefully. "Soon you will be back within its confinesand then what?"

"Well, Salmeo, I'm not sure it has to play out that way ultimately. I have plans, you see?" No, he didn't see, but he understood. "Right now I'm not at liberty to discuss those plans with you because they involve Crown business, and whilst my life must now revolve around the Crown, Grand Master Eunuch, yours unfortunately revolves entirely around a group of slave girls who are learning how to sexually satisfy my son."

He understood so well, in fact, that in the few moments whilst she spoke, gazing at him over the top of her veil with eyes that smiled savagely, Salmeo made his decision. For far too long had he kowtowed to this womanthis cunning, disloyal whore who wasn't worthy to stare at his feet, let alone stare into his eyes with such loathing. He was unacceptably vulnerable to herand Salmeo knew the Zar would welcome any excuse he could legitimately use to rid the palace of the present Grand Master Eunuch. No. There would be no waiting for Herezah to make her move. It seemed more radical measures would need to be taken...and swiftly.