THE SIX MEN and the victim stepped out into the sharp afternoon sunlight. Jumo unhappily followed, slinking into the shadow cast by the minaret outside the walls. His presence here was permitted merely as a servant available to carry, if necessary, Lazar's body from this place. Pez came behind Jumo, all but catapulting himself from the doorway into the Courtyard of Sorrows and tumbling into a series of manic somersaults aimed purely to irritate Herezah and her sycophants. He succeeded brilliantly by rolling to a halt atop a man's foot. Only one he knew wore jeweled slippers during the day and outsidea"he couldn't have planned it better.

"Curse you, Pez!" the Vizier exclaimed, kicking at the dwarf with his free foot.

Pez rolled away in mock agony, ensuring he made a loud to-do. Two of the Elim, one of whom was Horz, hurried up to help him.

"Vizier!" the senior Elim admonished. "Pez has the highest sanction in all of Percheron. You musta""

"I know, thank you, Horz," Tariq interrupted testily. He was angry with himself for such a blatant error but how he detested the dwarf! He especially despised that Pez had such free rein throughout the palace and especially in the harem.

Given his anger, he half expected the demon to speak but Maliz had been strangely silent since the meeting this morning. Tariq watched Horz pick up the still-writhing dwarf, carrying him to the edge of the courtyard, and he noticed Pez grinning back, mocking him. Oh, how he hated that fool. Today had been trying and now the dwarf 's antics, which never failed to embarrass the Vizier, had allowed the tension he was feeling to boil over.

He made his final decision. Yes! He would accept Maliz's offer. He wanted power, he wanted riches, he wanted freedom from the shackles of people who were less than himself. He would no longer answer to any of these pitiful folk, least of all a deranged dwarf. Tariq grimaced with pleasure at the thought. It would only be a temporary arrangement after all, and what did it matter if the demon had use of his body for a short period? The rewards more than outweighed the brief inconvenience.

Tariq suddenly realized he was grinning fiercely, filled with joy at reaching a decision, but his elation was interrupted by a short fanfare heralding the arrival of the Zar, looking tall and suddenly proud.

BOAZ WAS ACCOMPANIED by his mother. Herezah was fully veiled but nevertheless dazzling in robes of deep blue. Mother and son stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked the Courtyard of Sorrows. At their appearance, the entire group within the courtyard bowed.

And then another door opened and Ana was escorted by two burly Elim to the center of the Courtyard of Sorrows. She too was fully veiled; Lazar hated that her expressive face was covered. Nevertheless the softest of smiles seemed to touch her eyes and he knew it was just for him. His heart felt as though it had been shattering into countless pieces and with that deeply despairing pain came understanding. He had decided to take her punishment not for honor, or for protection, but for the oldest, most simple of reasons that drove men and women to do courageous, often ridiculously dangerous things.

He loved Ana.

At this moment of realization he felt the warmth of Iridor burning next to his leg. Placing his hand against the tiny statue, Lazar felt its comforting heat, and with that warmth came a sense of peace. He had made the right decision; Iridor was telling him as much. It was best he leave Ana to her new life. And as for himself: he must not punish himself further by remaining in Percheron and being reminded constantly of her, of roaming the palace and knowing she was separated from him by only a few walls and yet might as well be on the other side of the world. No, he would not suffer that pain easily. Instead he would return to his homeland and face the consequences, start his life anew as Ana built hers among the halls of the harem. If Pez was right and Boaz's interest had already been triggered by the girl, then she had a future.

Salmeo's voice broke into his thoughts as the eunuch began explaining the events leading up to Lazar's punishment. None of it needed explanation, of course, for everyone was well aware of what had transpired, but Salmeo took pleasure in following protocol.

"aand so it is with respect that we now inflict the punishment on Spur Lazar who has claimed Right of Protectorship over Odalisque Ana, property of Zar Boaz. The slave's transgression is considered extremely grave and by no higher authority than the Zar himselfa"

Lazar returned to his reverie, considering his prospects upon returning to where he was born and what sort of welcome might await him. It wouldn't be warm, that was for sure. He noticed Salmeo turn toward him and speak, dragging his attention back to the eunuch's words.

"ait is out of veneration to our Zar and to our way of life in the harem that we insist this punishment be taken seriously."

Lazar felt a stone hit the pit of his stomach. Salmeo clearly had something special in store for him. Lazar tore his gaze from Ana to stare at the timber to which he would be tied. He had seen many floggings, knew what to expect, grasped that Ana's punishment would be symbolic, whereas his on her behalf would be more stringent. He expected that some days of healing would be required before he would be able to move with ease. But now that the moment was upon him, the post and cross-timbers looked intensely sinister.

"aIt has been decided that the Spur will be given thirty lashes from the Viper's Nest." A murmur buzzed across the balcony as Boaz turned to his mother, concern apparent in his expression. Herezah whispered a brief response, hardly long enough to resemble anything close to a discussion. Lazar grimaced in sympathy. Poor Boaza"he was in for a harsh lesson this afternoon.

Lazar glanced toward Jumo and saw fear written across his friend's face. How he wished he could spare his companion this trial. A quick movement caught his eye and Lazar noticed Pez, his face ashen, skipping unhappily around the courtyard, apparently accidentally treading on the toes of the silent Vizier before careening through the door and away from the Courtyard of Sorrows. Lazar knew that wherever he was headed, the dwarf would be putting things in place to help when the flogging was done.

"Let us proceed," Salmeo proclaimed.

Before any move could be made, Ana, no doubt gathering that the Viper's Nest was no simple whip, began to struggle against her minders. "No, this is my punishment," she cried, tears overflowing her wide green eyes.

"Hush the girl!" Salmeo ordered.

"I demand to take my own punishment!" she yelled, cutting Salmeo off and looking directly at the Zar. "Your Majesty, overturn this decision, I beg you."

Boaz stepped forward and placed his hands on the balcony's stone railing. Everyone fell silent. Salmeo closed his eyes, beseeching Zarab that the Zar would not acquiesce to the girl's plea. They saw the Valide lean slightly toward the boya"no doubt she had whispered something to him from behind that veil, for Tariq noticed how the Zar's body tensed. There was anger in the boy, he mused. They would not have him under their collective thumb for much longer if they all did not give him more credit. He and Herezaha"and yes, Salmeo, tooa"would need to occupy the new Zar, shower him with diversions, pander to his whims, and free him from all responsibility if they were going to take complete control of Percheron.

Boaz took a calming breath. "Odalisque Ana," he called into the courtyard. "You have brought this despair upon yourself by your flouting of the harem's strictest lawa"the law of discipline. Did you know that crimes of this nature are sometimes punishable by death?"

At his words, Ana stopped struggling. She shook her head, dumbfounded.

"It is I who will not permit such a thing. It is I who have also permitted that your brave protector, our own revered Spur of Percheron, might take a commuted sentence on your behalf. Please do not beseech my generosity further, Odalisque Ana, for I fear my kindness to the women in my harem is being tested today. I am a friend of the Spur's"a"Boaz looked around the courtyard, speaking to everyone nowa""and I abhor what he is about to endure. But I admire him and respect him only more than I already did for his courage in protecting someone whom I should have protected from herself." He looked back to Ana. "You may be excused if you prefer not to witness the infliction of your own punishment."

Lazar bit back a smile, proud of and impressed by the boy. Reprimanding Ana so publicly would save her further torment from her superiors. Now that the Zar had spoken, no one would be permitted to add to his censure. Ana could not yet know that not even the Zar himself could overturn certain rulings within the harem. Boaz's personal admonishment was a form of protection and now he was offering Ana a chance to escape the trauma of watching the flogging take place. The young man was becoming more canny by the day.

Everyone within the courtyard waited for Ana's response. She bowed to her Zar and then eyed him defiantly. "I will bear witness, Your Majesty, so I never again have any misunderstanding of the barbaric dwelling in which I'm forced to live."

Salmeo, Tariq, and Herezah gasped at her brazenness. Lazar prayed that Boaz's personal fire had indeed been lit by Ana, for he was all that stood between her and a life of misery; the three most powerful people in Percheron save the Zar were furious with her.

Boaz spoke again. "I shall have a private audience with Odalisque Ana in my chambers once she is rested. Await my instructions." His tone was harsh and Herezah, Salmeo, and Tariq breathed a collective sigh of relief; not only was Boaz taking charge over such insult but it appeared that he would be seeking his own private retribution later.

Tariq secretly thought Boaz should rape the girl, viciously breaking that precious hymen. Then kill her, even. What was the life of one slave girl, and a difficult one at that?

Good, Tariq. It's fascinating to hear your angry thoughts. Tariq started as Maliz's voice eased into his mind.

I thought you'd deserted me.

How touching. I like to be missed. Someone will need to take control of the Zar, for I fear he is taking full control himself. I trust you've reached your decision, Vizier.

I have made my decision.

And?

I have conditions.

I make no further bargains.

This is just a temporary arrangement. Will you confirm that?

I will leave your body the moment I'm done with it.

Tariq's pause was barely noticeable. Then I accept.

There was a moment's silence in his head and then deep laughter. I shall see you tonight. Go to the bazaara"pass the slaughterhousea"I shall give you directions from there. Now I truly go. Preparations must be made.

Maliza"

No! Not now. Come tonight, late. I shall explain all.

And the demon was gone. Tariq, as if snapped from a sleep, focused again as the famously handsome Spur of Percheron was led to the scaffold where, if the Vizier had his way, the man would be flogged to death.

17.

A heavy silence fell upon the crowded courtyard. Yet another door opened and a young man, looking painfully unsure of himself, stepped into the arena. Behind him came an even younger bearer, carrying a white linen cloth upon which lay the fierce Viper's Nest. The whip comprised six leather thongs, which currently curled around one another harmlessly but when unleashed could snap against a man's back fast and viciouslya"akin to the movement of a viper. The cruel instrument was nicknamed the Snake, for each thong forked into two, like a serpent's tongue, and on the tip of each tongue was a tiny silver bead, sharp-edged and crafted deliberately to break skin.

Lazar swallowed hard, but to the onlookers he seemed unmoved by the arrival of the weapon. He had never seen the Snake used but he had heard of the intense injuries it could inflict. No wonder Salmeo was all but shivering in anticipation. Well, he would put on a good show for them and he would bleed harda"but he would not cry out for mercy. He would sooner bite out his own tongue than vent a plea to these mongers of pain. He raised his head to look around the rim of the courtyard at the birds of sorrow that lined the high wall. They seemed to mock him but he cared not.

"Welcome, Inflictor," Salmeo said. He bowed to Boaz again. "Your High One, may I present Shaz."

"This man looks young to be an Inflictor," Boaz said, estimating Shaz to be no more than a summer or two older than he was.

Salmeo dipped his head in mock humility. "Yes, Great One. Our Inflictor is away in the far north. I'm sorry to say his deputy is indisposed todaya"very unwell in facta"with a high fever."

"So who is Shaz?" the Zar persisted, sensing a ruse. He glanced toward his mother, wondering if any of this might have been her idea. Herezah gave nothing away in her dark gaze but shook her head slightly, as if this was all news to her. Boaz knew his mother well enough to ascertain when she had been taken by surprise. Shaz had nothing to do with her, then.

"He is an apprentice, Your Majesty," the Grand Master Eunuch replied.

"An apprentice!"

Salmeo shrugged innocently. "Your High One, what can I do? The sentence has been proclaimed. The rules of the harem demand that the flogging be carried out immediately. We had no idea that the Spur would choose this path or perhaps better arrangements could have been made. I would have insisted, in fact. But my understanding was that a member of the harem was to be whipped. Shaz is more than capable of lashing the odalisque Ana expertly," he offered up obliquely, not saying that the young Inflictor was incapable of using the Viper's Nest, and could wield only the harmless Swallow's Tongue with any precision.

"And the Spur?" Boaz demanded.

"Shaz's superior has indicated that he is the most talented apprentice in years," Salmeo lied.

Boaz bristled. Growing up in the harem had prepared him for the Grand Master Eunuch's subtleties. "Then because of the harem's incompetence and inability to provide a senior Inflictor, I am using my authority to commute this sentence."

Salmeo trembled with anger. "Zar Boaz, I must proa""

"No, Grand Master Eunuch, it is I who protest. This is being handled badly. I accept that the odalisque Ana has committed a serious crime and I accept that she must be punished. We all accept, because it is written in our laws, that the Spur can claim the Right of Protectorship and take the flogging on her behalf. Finally, we all understand the law of the harem according to which the Grand Elim alone decides on the method of punishment. But, Salmeo, my word is the law of our land and I have the power to reduce this sentence, if not the way it is carried out." Even without the fully deepened voice of manhood, Boaz's tone brooked no argument. "Spur Lazar will receive ten less than the proposed number of lashes because of the bumbling manner in which this serious event is unfolding." He took a deep breath. "If I could, Salmeoa"a"and Boaz deliberately used the eunuch's name rather than his title in order to reinforce his personal authority over the mana""I would postpone it until someone experienced could deal the blows. I know I cannot." He didn't wait for a response from the Grand Master Eunuch, looking instead to the uncertain young man awaiting the order to proceed. "Shaz."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the Inflictor replied quickly, confused and startled.

"Twenty lashes only. Do you understand?"

Shaz bowed low. "Yes, High One." He hesitated as if to add something, but caught the sharp shake of the head from Horz. So did Lazar.

This was all planned, then, Lazar realized. Salmeo must have contrived all of this over the past few hours. Impressive. Poor Shaz. He was being set up to make a complete mess of a man's body and Lazar understood he would have to steel himself against not just the lick of metal against skin but also the certainty of incompetence.

There was nothing he could do. Horz was already indicating that his robes were to be removed. As Shaz unrolled the Snake, Lazar quietly undressed, wishing this could have been a private debacle instead of a public event. He stripped down until he stood only in his white trousers and boots, his dark hair shining against his bronzed body.

On the balcony, behind her veil, Herezah took a long, steadying breath. She had pictured Lazar naked many times in her life; she had dreamed of him moving rhythmically above her, his expression filled with the ecstasy of riding her body. But no imagination could compare to the reality that was Lazar. He was, to her despair, infinitely more desirable in life than he had been in her dreams. He stood boldly before them, his broad chest visibly moving now with the deep breaths of anticipation. She took in the sight of his strong arms, shaped by hard muscle, which he usually hid beneath floaty robes. His light-eyed gaze was distant. He had left everyone here, she realized, and he was disappearing to a new place where perhaps he might escape the shock of what was coming. She felt vague pity that his beautiful body would be damaged before she could enjoy it, and squinted at the weapon in the young Inflictor's hand. From the distance of the balcony where she and Boaz stood, it appeared to all intents and purposes to be no more than a normal whip.

There was nothing she could do to help Lazara"even for cynical reasons of her own pleasure. All she could do was relish this opportunity to see him bared and humbled. After all, what were a few lashes to a strong man? She hoped he would groan from the pain and give her satisfaction for all the years of private groaning she had done on his behalf.

Herezah felt a soft shiver of pleasure ripple through her body as Lazar lifted his eyes and looked at her. Oh, the exquisite defiance in that glower. She wished she could drag him off and bed him nowa"nothing would give her greater release than to take him when he was so flagrantly thumbing his nose at those around him.

Was he scared? Surely just a little, for the whip looked suddenly fearsome as the young man, Shaz, unfurled it and cracked it in a couple of practice lashes. Zarab's Breath! But it was more complex than she had imagineda"so many whips within the one weapon. It snapped loudly around the courtyard and she noticed Ana flinch. Good! She wanted to ensure Ana knew what she was responsible for. And Lazar, poor fool, blinded by honor, would shed blood today for a girl who would forget his very existence within a few months.

Herezah was dragged from her musings by Lazar's movement toward the post. She looked at his broad back now as his arms were raised and tied firmly to the crossbeam. The muscles that striped his body stood out in sharp relief as they tensed in readiness and Herezah held her breath, awaiting the sound of the Snake's first bite.

PEZ WAS RUNNING as hard as his stumpy legs could carry him. Though people laughed and some who knew him called out to the dwarf, he heeded no one. As he ran he felt a burning sensation. Though at first he thought he was getting warm from his exertion, as the feeling grew he realized it was not that sort of heat. It was not on his skin but in his mind and deep within his body. He felt suddenly connected toawhat? Whatever it was, it was calling him. Compelling him. Where to? He reached out for the answer as he careened closer to the waterfront.

SHAZ NERVOUSLY FLICKED the Snake. He had not understood why the Deputy Inflictor had suddenly summoned him to his chamber barely an hour ago and given him instructions that made his hair stand on end.

"You will be inflicting a flogging today," Rah had said flatly.

"Sir? Is this a practice on the dummies?"

"No, Shaz. This will be on a real man."

Shaz had been understandably shocked. "I am not ready, sir. Only yesterday you saida""

Rah's eyes had appeared shrouded. He had sounded awkward and his tone had been angry. "I know what I said. I have been given orders."

"Sir, have I offended?"

"No. Just follow your orders."

Shaz had risked his superior's ire still further. "You cannot leave me to this, sir, when I can'ta""

Again he had been interrupted. "We have no say in this! It comes from the highest authority. You have been chosen to do the whipping. Do your best. Remember all that we have taught you. If anyone asks, I have been taken unwell. Do not let your own down."

Shaz had felt his stomach turn over. "But I am not ready."

"No. But you also have no choice. This is what you've trained fora"it's simply happening earlier than we or you would like."

"But I know I will injure him. He may not recover."

"Take a deep breath between lashes. See the place where you intend the whip to hit, visualize the tip on the spot of skin you are looking at, take aim, and snap the whip cleanly, as you've been taught. You know what to doa"do the best with the skills you have, Shaz."

"What if I hurt him too much?"

And then Shaz's superior had looked down, beaten himself. "That is their intention, I imagine."

It had all fallen into place. Shaz understood that he was merely a pawn in a much bigger game, a game played by far more important people who did not respect the work he and his superiors did, the pride they took in doing it properly. "They're sending you away deliberately so that your apprentice makes a fool of himself and a mess of some victim's back?" he had asked, stunned.

Rah had remained silent for a long while, then said, simply and quietly, "You are instructed to use the Snake."

At this Shaz had quailed. "No sir, I cannot do it. I have never yet touched the Viper's Nest. I am not ready to wield it."

"That's what they're looking forward to, son."

"Who is the victim?" Shaz had asked, unable to imagine which poor soul had so offended the Grand Master Eunuch.

"The Spur of Percheron. I am sorry for you, Shaz. Zarab guide your fist."

And so here he now stood, trembling, terrified, the Snake lying limp in his clenched, sweaty hand, waiting to be fully awakened and unleashed mercilessly. Shaz had always admired the Spur, had watched his long stride around the palace grounds, been impressed by the way his loyal men had leaped to his bidding, had even gladly taken advice once when Lazar had caught him practicing his craft on the dummies.

"Remember that's a man, Shaz," the Spur had cautioned. "You must respect his body as you would your own. Keep mindful that he needs to be able to walk away from this post with a little bit of his pride intact. If you whip him too low too often, he won't be able to walk, and if you concentrate the lashes too high, he won't be able to lift his arms. Men have work, families, lives. They must be able to return to them. Whippings are punishment only for a transgressiona"you are not trying to maim or kill the man."

Shaz had never forgotten that guidance. It echoed in his mind now as he stared at the broad, unblemished torso of the very man who had given it.