Kett looked at her, his bewilderment clear in his expression. "Valide?"

Salmeo however understood. "Call the priests," he said to his guard.

"Valide," Lazar began.

"Enough, Spur!" Herezah snapped. "We have indulged you. Please step back." At her dismissal, the Vizier gave a triumphant glare at Lazar, who had no choice but to do as he was ordered.

"This will not take long, brothers," Salmeo assured.

"I am going to ask you to step outside for a short while," Herezah warned those gathered. She glanced Lazar's way and he knew that beneath the veil, she was smiling.

10.

Pez and his Zar were still trapped in the corridor running alongside the Choosing Room. Like Salmeo and Lazar, Pez had understood the Valide's words almost immediately. He knew precisely what was about to transpire and he did not want Boaz present for it. "Quick, we must leave now," Pez urged.

"What will happen to Kett?" Boaz demanded.

"You heard. He is to be punished. Let's go."

"Shouldn't we stay?"

"It won't be pretty," Pez said. "Trust me, you don't want to witness it."

Boaz followed his friend out from behind the curtain, his mind racing. "Where are the guards?"

"They've gone to fetch the priests. I know a way we can get out. Hold my hand."

"Why?"

"Do it!"

Boaz assumed that they were fortunate and that the excitement of the proceedings had made some of the guards sloppy enough not to notice them. Pez knew otherwise. He guided them expertly through the various twisting walkways until Boaz found himself arriving by the Lion Fountain.

"Here? How?"

"I told you, I know my way around. Now come, we are still in danger."

They arrived breathlessly back at the Zar's quarters, Pez affecting a wild laugh and somersaulting down the main hallway to Boaz's huge doors. The two Elim bowed to their Zar and then laughed. They knew the lad well enough to share a joke with him.

"Where does he get the energy?" one asked.

Boaz shrugged and pushed the dwarf into the main chamber.

Inside, the Zar ignored protocol and, with difficulty due to his injured arm, poured two goblets of wine. He handed one to his friend with a shaking hand. "Now, tell me what happened back there." Boaz sipped his wine, attempting to calm his frayed nerves and rising temper.

The little man sighed and all amusement died in his eyes. "It's called shepherding."

"What does that mean?"

"I cana"temporarily at leasta"block people."

"Block them?" Boaz frowned.

"You know," Pez said awkwardly, "steer them awaya"you could saya"as a shepherd steers his sheep."

"You mean, prevent their seeing you?"

The dwarf nodded. "But not for long."

"Actually invisible?"

"No. How can I put this? I force their gazes to slide past me, you could say."

Boaz suddenly understood. "You have the Lore?" His tone was leaden with fright.

Again Pez nodded, his expression grave. He had hoped to avoid revealing all this to Boaz.

"And do you use it often?"

"No. I have little need for it."

"So what are you? Some sort of sorcerer?" Boaz asked, aghast.

"No. I possess such a tiny sense, I wield no real power." Pez crafted a necessary lie. "A throwback to my great-grandmother, who was sentient. For the most part she kept her power a secret." He watched Boaz's eyes widen. "It's nothing, Boaz. I have only a touch. Something only slightly more impressive than my silly tricks."

"Why have you not mentioned it to me before?"

Pez shrugged. "It didn't seem importanta"as I said, I haven't used it since I came to the palace." In this, he told the truth. "I'm the Zar's idiot. It wouldn't do to be casting spells."

"What is the extent of your magic?" the boy persisted.

"That's it," Pez replied diffidently. "I can shepherd and that takes so much out of me I usually need to sleep for a whole day afterward. In fact I feel quite ill now." He blinked slowly. "I would never have used it but I couldn't risk you being found there."

The boy continued to watch him, curiosity in his eyes. "I shall have to think about what you've told me."

"You'll keep it our secret, won't you?" Pez hoped that the words our secret might prompt Boaz to feel he held yet more information from his mother.

"I have no reason to betray you, Pez. You're my friend, aren't you?"

"I am. More than you can know."

The Zar nodded thoughtfully; then his expression turned suddenly apprehensive. "Why did they call for the priests back there?"

"There is to be a ceremony."

"Oh? I didn't understand what my mother meant by *welcoming Kett to the place he had trespassed upon.'"

"She is formally making him a member of the harem, Boaz," Pez replied.

Boaz considered this. "But how can she when he'sa" His face drained of color. "He's to become a eunuch?"

Pez nodded. "She will be taking his manhood as we speak."

KETT, IN HIS FEAR and confusion, seemed to be the last person in the chamber to understand what was about to happen. Even Ana had grasped what was unfolding and had tried to squirm away through the legs of her captors.

Herezah was having none of it. "She must bear witness. It was she whose body he watched. She who has caused his downfall, you could say."

"Valide, I really must object," Lazar began, but he was cut off again, this time aggressively.

"Don't ever object to me, Spur. Remember your place. The girl will bear witness, as will you."

Salmeo whispered something to her and she nodded.

"Guards, please show our guests into the courtyard across the hall. You can take some fresh air and we shall serve refreshments. We shall not keep you long."

Muttered whispers of concern, confusion, and relief broke out among the guests.

Salmeo's voice rose in command. "Elim, Spur Lazar and the girl, Ana, are to remain. Vizier, my humblest apologies, but I must ask you to leave also."

The Vizier swelled like a rooster about to unleash a tirade of protestations when Herezah used her quiet voice to still him. "Thank you, Tariq. I know how careful you are to observe the traditions of the harem. Perhaps you can keep our guests entertained on my behalf. We shan't be long."

The stooped thin man pursed his lips and had no choice but to take what was clearly an order in the same gracious manner in which she had delivered it.

The priest, another eunuch, arrived with a trio of helpers in tow. He'd obviously been informed of the nature of his visit for he carried a small velvet roll and his aides carried towels, pails of steaming water, and various other instruments.

They bowed to Herezah. "Valide Zara," the priest said. She nodded in response and he turned immediately to Salmeo. "Grand Master Eunuch, this is most unusual." There was a slight quaver of worry in his voice.

Salmeo gave a gesture of helplessness. "These are unusual circumstances." They both looked down at the trembling Kett. An assistant, known as a knifer, began lighting small wax candles, placing them in a crescent around the boy; another doused some of the lanterns around the chamber, throwing Kett into a small pool of light as the rest of the people around him were cast into shadows.

Herezah, who had never witnessed the making of a eunuch, felt a thrill of excitement. "How long will this take?" she asked.

"We shall be swift, Valide" was all the priest could offer. He wasted no further time, giving whispered orders to his assistants.

Lazar moved back, leaning against the wall. He knew its solidity would be a welcome friend within a few minutes. The Spur was hardly a squeamish man but this was one ceremony he was glad was a secret ritual. He cast a careful glance toward Ana; she looked desperately pale and frightened. Ana turned as if hearing his thoughts and met his gaze. The depth of sorrow in her eyes awakened a fierce yearning in him. She was so young, so innocenta"he wanted to protect her but now she was lost to him. Kett would hardly thank her for her sacrifice, Lazar thought grimly; he himself would rather die than go through this barbaric procedure and, worse, live with its results for the rest of his life.

Salmeo began to speak quietly as the preparations continued. Catching sight of a small curved blade now being studiously sharpened by the priest, Kett began to whimper.

"What you are about to witness is one of the most secret of rituals preserved in the harem. It is not to be spoken about outside the harem walls. In this rare instance it is being used as punishment, but Kett will appreciate in time to come that he is privileged. It is a high honor to serve in this way." Salmeo stopped abruptly and turned to the priest. No doubt both men were remembering their own rite of passage. Lazar held his breath and prayed the next few minutes would pass quickly.

"Ready?" Salmeo asked.

The priest glanced at his helpers, each of whom nodded solemnly. "We are."

"Kett," Salmeo began. "Be brave now. Your blood has been spared and you are entering a new way of life. A new form of service. The most secret and privileged of slaves." His voice was so cloyingly gentle that Lazar had to look away from Kett's trusting face. The boy knew something terrifying was about to occur, and Lazar could see that he also grasped that he had no power to prevent it. It was easier to cooperate and, like Lazar, pray to the gods that it end quickly.

The assistants undressed Kett and laid him down on his back, his head and shoulders framed by the flickering candles. The priest threw a powder into the flames, which sparkled and crackled, signifying the commencement of the ritual. Two of the assistants flanked Kett to hold the boy down. The third man used long strips of white linen to bind the area tightly beneath Kett's navel. They did the same to the high part of his thighs. Kett began to moan. Curiously, he turned his head and searched for Ana, who locked her gaze with his. Lazar watched the two youngsters share something. Sympathy? Fright? He didn't know, but with the adults in the chamber perpetrating this horror, it was little wonder that they sought solace in each other.

"The bandages prevent excessive bleeding," Salmeo explained softly to Herezah.

"Can he die from this?" she whispered.

"Oh yes. Many do, in fact. Zarab will choose."

"Drink this," the priest said, handing Kett a small cup and helping him to sit up.

Herezah was intrigued. "Is that for pain?"

"A dulling concoction to prevent panic," Salmeo answered.

A prayer was murmured over Kett as the boy was laid back down, the priest and his assistants holding hands above the child. An assistant reached for a bowl and the priest cast another prayer before dipping a sponge into the bowl and squeezing it out.

"What's that gray liquid they're smearing on him?"

"That's boiled water-of-pepper and juniper. It is made by the priest, who casts prayers to purify it and to purify the boy. He must do this three times in between praying for Kett's life to be preserved and for his own hand to be guided for the cut."

Kett squirmed under the heat of the liquid around such a tender area. Lazar could see steam rising from the boy's body, wanted to close his eyes, but kept them open to honor the slave who was showing such couragea"more than Lazar felt he would have shown under the same circumstances. The boy was moaning, yes, but no words, no pitiful cries, no begging for mercy. Why? And all the time his head was turned toward Ana, watching her whisper her prayers.

"What is it supposed to do?" Herezah asked as they watched the priest complete the third bathing. Salmeo kept his voice low but Lazar could hear the words plainly enough, which meant they were sparing Kett none of the grisly details. "It simply bathes the area. Makes it as sterile as possible, Valide."

"I see. And you, Salmeo, went through this precise procedure?"

"Yes, Valide, to a point." His timing was perfect, for the priest had just positioned himself between Kett's legs. As the other man reached for the sickle-shaped knife, Salmeo raised his voice. "And now we must choose."

"Choose what?"

"Which type of emasculation you wish for Kett."

Lazar fancied that he saw Herezah tremble at the eunuch's words. "Choose?" she repeated in a smoky voice. "Explain the options to me again."

"Yes, Valide." Salmeo had known she would ask this of him, understood her need for theater and the cruel streak that demanded she make the boy suffer a little longer. "Three methods are used. There is the clean-shaven, or the Varen, in which all of the sexual organs are removed in a single cut. There is the Yerzaha"this fellow loses only the shaft. Perhaps the worst of the three, Valide."

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

Salmeo shrugged. "Well"a"and somehow everyone in the room knew the Grand Master Eunuch was Yerzaha""though he will have the ability to procreate, he won't have theatools."

"Why is that hardest of all?" Herezah persisted.

Salmeo's lids lowered slightly and Lazar noticed the rope scar twitch. "Because he doesn't lose the desire to copulate, Valide. He cannot satisfy a woman by traditional means and he cannot satisfy himself by any means."

"I see," the Valide said, smiling beneath the veil, storing away another treasured item of information about the Grand Master. "And the third method?"

"Is called Xarob. This eunuch is rendered sexless by the damage, often removal, of the testicles."