Ana glanced toward the guards and shook her head. "How did you get past them?"

"I'm mad, remember. No one cares about me."

"Do you know what's happening?"

"It's Lazar. He's claimed the Right of Protectorship for you."

"What does that mean? They've told me I won't be whipped today." From the divan where she sat looking down upon the dwarf, she sensed that something grave had occurred.

"That is because Lazar will take the flogging on your behalf."

"Oh no!" she cried, standing up abruptly. The guards looked around but without much interest. They'd seen dozens of girls get easily upset, especially around the dwarf. Smirking, they turned away again.

Pez hurried to reassure her. "Ana, hush. Lazar will be fine. He is a toughened soldier."

"How was he allowed to do this?"

Pez sat up but turned his back on the men so they could not see his lips moving. Ana took his hint and did the same as Pez explained. "The Right of Protectorship stretches back centuries and it was only because of an ancient yet infamous instance of it being invoked that it remains in the history books today. A wife of the Zar had made him cuckold to a eunuch."

"How can that be?" she interrupted.

"The eunuch's cutting had not been done properly and he had hidden this fact, managing to continue carnal relations whilst living among the eunuch community. He would have gotten away with his sexual activities if not for falling in love with one of the wives. She became pregnant and the Grand Master Eunuch knew it was not possible that she was pregnant by the Zar. The girl refused to reveal her lover, such was her devotion to him, and so the Zar, incensed, ordered her death. The smitten eunuch stepped forward and claimed the right to be executed on her behalf, invoking one of the oldest laws of Percheron: that a person can escape punishment if another accepts it instead."

"Oh, so this is custom?"

"In Percheron, yes. I don't know of anywhere else where such a law exists. The eunuch was immediately ganched, a hideously slow and painful death that involves being thrown onto hooks. Wherever on the body those cruel hooks snag is where the victim is suspended, eventually to die."

Ana flinched. "And my punishment is a mere whipping," she muttered.

"You have not cuckolded the Zar. There is no greater treachery within the harem."

"Do they still ganche people today?"

"Oh yes. Though there hasn't been one in a long timea"I suspect we're due."

"How is Lazar?"

"Determined, aloof, angry as always."

"How can I thank him? How do I repay him?"

"By staying out of trouble, Ana. They have you marked now as rebellious. You must conform as best you can if you are to survive. I imagine Salmeo has been deeply humiliated by this eventa"even more so now that you're escaping his punishment."

"You think he'll want revenge?"

"I do, so you must not make it easy for him to take it. Stay out of his sight, Ana. Blend into the harem with the other girls and be dutiful. Learn all that they ask of you and perform your tasks diligently. Survive."

Thoughtfully, the girl nodded. "Can you take a message to Lazar for me?"

"Of course."

"Will you tell him that he is free of me? He is no longer beholden in any way. I am alone now and I accept this. I will be a dutiful odalisque, as you suggest. I bear no ill will toward him and I am"a"she hesitateda""happier for knowing him."

Pez said nothing. He didn't have to. They sat in sad silence for a few minutes until the Elim arrived.

"It is time, Miss Ana," one said. "Be off with you, Pez," he added, pulling a face of disgust as the dwarf picked his nose, humming tunelessly. "You will have to get used to the dwarf, Miss Ana," the man said more kindly. "He has the run of the harem. We cannot stop him from being here."

"He doesn't trouble me," she answered, feigning indifference. "He doesn't even talk to mea"he just seems to murmur nonsense all the time."

"He's been like this for years but he belongs to the Zar and, as such, is untouchable. Now, if you'll come with us."

Pez pushed himself to his feet and groped his crotch, then pointed to Ana. "This one will please the Zar," he said, giggling maniacally before running out the door.

16.

Salmeo's heart was pumping hard and it was not only pushing blood around his body. Anger throbbed in tandem. The eunuch hated to reveal when his emotions were being stirred; he preferred that no one know what he was thinking or how he was reacting to a situation. But the peacock Vizier and the arrogant Spur had belittled him before the Validea"just when he had begun to win her trust and complicity.

He banged the marble wall with his fist, in a rage. Even though his eyes were open, he saw nothing, for his thoughts and boiling blood blurred everything. He wanted revengea"and the Valide had given him the means.

A knock at the door brought him out of his angry thoughts. "Enter," he boomed.

His trusted and most senior Elim stepped inside and bowed low. "Master," he said, not straightening until his superior gave him permission to do so.

"Horz. You have heard what we do today in the Courtyard of Sorrows?"

The man stood up. "Yes, Master. I have been informed that we do not punish the odalisque but rather the Spur."

"Indeed we do. Who had you earmarked to perform the whipping on the girl?"

"Someone very experienced, Master, who knows how to lash softly and without marking."

"Change him. I want one of the apprentices to do this one."

"Master?" Horz asked in confusion. "An apprentice means it will almost certainly be badly done."

"The Spur is to be hurt, Horz. Must I say it more plainly for you? The Spur has called the Elim into question today. He mocked me in front of the Valide. He believes it will be a simple case of taking the child's punishment. I choose otherwise."

Horz could feel the hate emanating from the Grand Master Eunuch. The words of his master sounded chilling. Whatever was coming was clearly going to be dangerous.

Salmeo spoke quietly and forcefully. "I want the Viper's Nest to be used on him."

Horz blanched. The whip Salmeo spoke of was traditionally used only to kill or as a preamble to death by other means. "Master, pleasea""

"Do as I command you, Horz. The Viper's Nest it is and make sure whoever wields it has no idea how to use it. I repeat: I do not want the Spur softened; I want him hurt. And should he diea"

Die? Horz, in his horror, could barely speak. "Yes, Master?" he managed to choke out.

"We shall not be held responsible. I will see to it."

Silently and shakily, Horz bowed, expecting to be dismissed.

"I am not finished yet," Salmeo said, a slyness in his tone that told Horz he had yet to hear the worst of his master's plan. "I want the tongue of each viper to be dipped in drezden."

The Elim could not speak. His lips had gone numb.

"Have I made myself perfectly clear, Horz?" Salmeo asked, a threat in his question.

"Yes, Master," came the strained reply.

"Good, because it's your life and the lives of your brother and his family in the foothills if my orders are not followed to the letter. I suggest you apply the drezden yourself. Oh, and Horza"no one knows of this but the two of usaI suggest we keep it that way."

LAZAR HAD BEEN STARING into space, his mind empty of thoughts for the first time he could remember. He wasn't sure whether it was the dulling sense of anxious anticipation or the fear of what he planned to do beyond today. He had discussed the latter with no one yet, not even Jumo. It seemed to be the only decision he could take to rid himself of this asphyxiating sense of dreada"that he was somehow connected to something far bigger than his own tightly kept world of Percheron. For some reason, his thoughts kept returning to the statue of Lyana in the tiny temple. Something in her gaze called to hima"no, implored hima"to do what, he didn't know. The effect had not waned over the days since he had first seen her. In fact, if he was truthful, he would admit it had only intensified.

Was this feeling of unsettlement the power of the statue? Or a result of the surge of Herezah into such a position of authority and her relentless intention to make him dance to her chosen tune? But his irritation with Herezah paled in comparison with the frightening sense of loss he felt for Ana. And why did he feel strongly for the young odalisque? He had told himself that she was merely a naive girl, but the truth was that though she might be young, her soul was old. He had accused her of being cunning, deliberately pulling at his heartstrings, but he had failed there too; there was nothing conniving in Ana. She was true: true to herself, true to him, and true to those she dealt with. He had even tried to convince himself that she would not remember his name after a year in the harem, that she was like all women in that brooda"simply trying to better themselves.

Finally he had had to accept that Ana had so profoundly affected him that he could no longer think in the neat, straight way he was used to. Life felt suddenly disordered, routine was smashed, his secure, private existence in Percheron over. And still he could not target precisely what it was about this youngster that could have such an effect. He was reacting to her as if she were of a similar age to himself and, heaven forbid, eligible. He did not want his heart touched, yet she had done just that with a single look.

Lazar knew he would never be able to stomach being so close to Ana and yet so far away. That was why he was planning on leaving Percheron. He had only to get through today and then he would be gonea"fleeing from all that had suddenly become so unsettling.

Sighing heavily, Lazar laid his head back against the cool marble of the wall and closed his eyes. He was sure Jumo would find him prior to the flogging.

He was right. Jumo had arrived at the palace and with Pez's guidance had discovered where his friend had been asked to wait. Granite-faced members of the Elim greeted the former slave and would not have permitted him access but for the presence of Pez.

"We're here to see the Protector!" the dwarf had repeated over and again, spinning in frantic circles.

When the Elim began suggesting that they would allow Pez in but not Jumo, the dwarf had stamped his feet and grabbed Jumo's hand. "He's my friend," he howled, then growled and bared his teeth at the Elim. The guards, more than used to the small man's antics and capricious ways, looked at one another uncomfortably, and finally, one sighed and said, "What would it hurt?"

Once inside the chamber, the dwarf became serious. "They obviously agreed to it," he said to Lazar.

The Spur nodded. "They could hardly refuse. Thank you for suggesting it."

"I don't think you'll be thanking me soon, Lazar," Pez answered. He sighed, his expression begging their indulgence as he began to jump around, screeching loudly so that the Elim outside would not wonder why he had gone quiet.

Lazar and Jumo shared a look, each thinking the same thing. Salmeo would make the Spur pay a heavy price for this humiliation. Indeed, and ominously, though Lazar originally had been taken in the direction of the barracks, the Elim had taken a sudden and unexpected turn, bringing him to a wing of the palace he had never explored.

"This is not part of the harem," Jumo muttered.

"No. This is the Hall of Sorrows," Pez answered, becoming still again. "It's where prisoners of the royals are brought to wait before they face their punishment."

"I've only seen it from the other side," Lazar commented absently. "It's a very pretty courtyard, with birds as sentries, I think, around the edge of the walls."

"Yes, ravens," Pez replied. "The bird of sorrows."

Lazar nodded. "Fitting."

Jumo knew that Lazar had made a decision and would never go back on his word but one thing continued to trouble him. "Master, I doubt very much that they will use the same whip on you as they would have used on the child."

Pez nodded sagely. "The Elim confer with the Inflictors to choose, as I understand it."

"Yes, so I've been informed," Lazar confirmed. "I think we can stake our lives on the assumption that Salmeo will select something vicious."

"Are you frightened?" Jumo asked tentatively.

"My only worry is for Ana," Lazar said. "I have a feeling they'll make her watch."

"I think you can count on it," Pez answered. "But she's an incredibly assured young woman, my friend. I don't think you should fret too much about her. She will survive this. Just consider yourself now."

Lazar shrugged. "There is little to consider. They'll do what they will and I must bear it."

Jumo felt his stomach roll at the thought. His grim thoughts were silenced by the sudden movement of Pez doing a handstand against the wall and beginning what was known affectionately among the ranks of soldiers as his jibber-jabber.

The dwarf had sensitive hearing; within moments, four of the Elim had opened the door, stepping inside the courtyard. Another two guards remained outside.

"Spur, if you please," the most senior man, Horz, said courteously.

Jumo couldn't imagine that anyone among the Elim was too happy about his role today. The Elim were subject to the whims of their commander, the Grand Master Eunuch, and they were fearsome fighters, all of them. It was an unwise foe who imagined that because the Elim had been rendered sexless by the blade, they lacked the passion or courage that went with manhood. Far from it, in fact; most of the Elim proved their bravery by entering the service of the eunuchs as adults. The other eunuchs of the harem, those never permitted to wear the red robe, were mostly cut when they were still in childhood and unable to understand, beyond the pain and fear, what they were giving up.

The Elim expected to be rewarded in heaven for their sacrifices to the Zar, as promised by Zarab, whom they worshipped vigorously. In spite of their spiritual connection to their ruler, they still admired and respected his Spur, a fellow warrior and man of no excesses. To them, Lazar was just short of kin as he too followed a code of conduct based on honor, not dissimilar to their own.

Jumo stepped in front of Lazar. "I am his second."

Horz nodded. "As tradition allows," he said, speaking above the increasing din Pez was creating. Horz turned and bowed to Lazar. "I'm sorry, Spur, about the dwarf 's interference but the Zar rulesa"

"I know," Lazar replied. "I take no notice of him at the best of times."

"Can you tell me how this is all to be handled?" Jumo asked.

Again the senior Elim nodded calmly. "The Spur is to be flogged."

Jumo kept his face expressionless. "By whom?"

"I do not know the Inflictor."

"You mean you don't know the man himself or you don't know which of the Inflictors has been chosen?" Jumo persisted.

The Elim's hesitation was telling. As he opened his mouth to answer, Lazar cut him off. "Leave it, Jumo. It's going to be done, and frankly I don't care by whom."

Pez began chanting: "Don't hurt him, Horz, or he'll get angry." No one took any notice.

"If you'll follow us, Spur," Horz said, glancing briefly at Jumo. Something in that single look made Jumo's heart sink further. There was some layer to this scheme beyond what they were being told. He was sure of it.

"Thank you, Horz," Lazar muttered. The Elim were ruthless enough when required but he understood that none would be looking forward to today's event. He grudgingly accepted that they would probably have preferred to whip the girl than to humiliate, probably injure, a fellow warrior who was clearly innocent. That said, he could also sense their quiet admiration that he had offered himself up instead. He fell into step between the six Elim, each as tall as he was, and decided as he did so that he would not let himself down during his punishment. He would give Herezah no satisfaction this day.