She nodded sadly. "I have not been given any information as to how he is."

Boaz knew he shouldn't be sharing so much information but it felt so long since he'd been around someone he wanted to call friend. "I have been trying to find out more. Rumor has it that he won't live past this day." He watched shock hit that lovely face as effectively as if he'd leaned over and slapped it.

"That can't be so, High One!"

"But you saw the pitiful state he was left in. Even from my more distant spot I could see his back opened to the bone. None of us should be surprised if he's already deadabut we should all be ashamed."

"I couldn't see the damage. I could only see his honorable face and what it cost him to bear his injuries without sharing his pain with all of us."

Boaz whistled low under his breath. "I don't think anyone there would have thought less of him if he'd screamed with each lash."

"I suspect screaming is not Lazar's way," she said softly. "He would consider it an intolerable weakness in himself."

"You seem to understand him intimately despite the short term of your relationship." Boaz saw her frown at his words. "Er, I mean that you seem to know him very well." She did not respond and the young Zar struggled, feeling awkward. "I have sent runners out all over the city. We shall have news of the Spur soon." Her eyes rose again to regard him and he could see the hope reflected within. "I shall get word to you, I promise."

Ana studied him a moment longer. "You know Salmeo will be telling your mother about this meeting."

Boaz bristled. "I am the Zar, Ana, or do you, like the Grand Master Eunuch, forget that?"

"No, High One. It is my turn to apologize. I meant no offense. I am only concerned that I have been marked as a troublemaker and do not wish you to get into any bother on my account."

Boaz laughed. "I am the Zar," he repeated. "No one has any authority over me." Standing, he felt taller, stronger suddenly. "Thank you for making me remind myself of that."

"I beg your pardon, High One?"

"Well, I think I too had overlooked just how powerful a person I am now. My father tried to tell me on his deathbed. He urged me to remember that I was the Chosen One. He selected me above all of his other sons to rule after him. Rule I will and I will not be cowed by an ambitious eunuchaor my mother."

She appreciated his fighting words and heard a kindred spirit, but also knew how helpless she was by comparison. "I hardly know more than your name and age, Your Majesty, but I hope you don't feel it is forward of me to say how proud you make me feel. You speak to my own heart. Slave I might be considered but I too will not be humbled by Salmeoaora"" She stopped, realizing she might be about to make a grave mistake.

"My motherayou may say it," Boaz encouraged. He reached for his goblet of wine and drank, moving to sit by her. The sherbets had melted into a fusion of color in their silver dishes, untouched on the tray. "You may speak of her before me."

He saw how carefully she watched him and guessed she had been warned, probably by Lazar, to trust few, if any, in the harem. "Ana, I am not your enemy. You may speak freely."

"I think not, High One," she said finally, disappointing him further. "I must not speak out of turn. It is probably wise if I keep my thoughts to myself."

"You don't understand. I thought we might be friends."

"You have many new friends now, Zar. There are forty-one other girls, as I understand it. All pretty, all picked carefully to suit your needs."

"And I'll bet none of them is as spirited as you, Ana. I should like to spend some time with you. Perhaps I can teach you about life in the palace and you can teach me about life beyond it."

"A Zar teaching a slave." It wasn't a question and he could hear the note of disdain in her tone as if she couldn't conceive of such a thing.

"Why not? How do you think my mother rose to her station, Ana? Don't be fooled by all of the grandeur. Every Zar ever born is the product of a slave. My father and his father before him, and his father before that, mated with slaves and sired the next Mightiest of the Mighty."

She nodded, frowning as if seriously considering his words before she replied. "Your High One, may I ask a boon of you?"

"So soon, Odalisque Ana?" She looked back at him, chastened.

"A jest," he added quickly. "Ask me."

Her words came out in a rush. "Please don't single me out, Majesty."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I have been warned to keep my head down. I have been marked as trouble by powerful people. I have no choice but to live this life of an odalisque, but perhaps I can live quietly and not create more ripples that reach the Valide or the Grand Master Eunuch."

He nodded, understanding perfectly. "You forget that although they rule the harem, I rule them. If I choose to see you because you interest me, they cannot stop me."

"No, I suppose not, but that doesn't stop them making my life miserable as punishment."

"That's because you yet don't understand the ways of the harem. Your role is to interest me. You can hardly be punished for pleasing the Zar. Will you trust me, even though I suspect you've been warned to do the opposite?" He watched her blush and saw that he had guessed rightly. "Trust that I wish you no harm and that I would appreciate your friendship for now, nothing more."

"Of coursea"I can hardly refuse you, Zar Boaz."

He smiled sadly. She had been cautioned well. "I shall not allow anyone to object when I seek out your company."

"Will you be fair to everyone?" she implored.

"If I enjoy some of the others, yes, I will spend time with them. I cannot guarantee it. My father once told me that a beautiful woman can be just as vapid or dull as a plain one. Beauty is no guarantee of intelligence or charming company. I am only now beginning to grasp what he meant and I understand why he chose my mother. She was always ambitious but she was also quick of mind and wita"and that appealed to him."

"Is that why you pursue me, High One?"

Boaz laughed. "I think you're wonderfully daring. Something I'm not. If I didn't like you so much already, Ana, I'd urge you to keep following your feisty path and do everything you can to irritate and exasperate Salmeo."

"You will keep your promise and let me know what you might discover about the Spur?"

"I shall, for it gives me an excuse to see you again," he said brightly.

"The Grand Master Eunuch said it is not usual toa""

Boaz was quick to interrupt her. "Salmeo can say what he wishes, Ana. He is not the Zar. Things are going to change. My father chose me because he believed in me."

"And your mother?" she risked.

"Is Valide only because of me." As he repeated Pez's words, Boaz realized he hadn't seen the dwarf since the flogging. He returned his attention to Ana. "She will not give me too much grief. The first thing I shall do is introduce a picnic at each full moon."

Her eyes brightened. "Outside the palace?"

At seeing her pleasure, a jolt of desire coursed through him, startling him. "Of course. I too feel cooped up here. I know when I was younger and lived amongst the harem women, they always complained about how dull their lives were. For all the luxuriousness of their existence, each day was the same for them. Well, I can change that."

"You are wonderful, Your Majesty. I know I thank you for it and I feel sure the other girls will too."

He beamed, enjoying her praise, wanting to see that glitter in her eyes often and feel that spark of desire surge.

"I'm sorry about the sherbet," he said, eyeing the rainbow-colored mess on the tray.

"You're the Zar, I presume you can order it again?" she suggested airily, clearly emboldened by his words of power.

Boaz laughed. "You're good for me, Odalisque Ana. I'm certainly going to enjoy seeing you often."

20.

Pez fretted that he should not have left Lazar to the ministrations of a stranger. He should have stayed, kept vigil, urged his friend to hold on to life. Why did he have such a sense of doom? The only reassurance he could derive was that Jumo was present. Jumo would sooner die himself than lose Lazar. Pez knew Lazar's companion would send news shortly whether the fight had been won or lost.

Lost? He couldn't imagine Percheron without Lazar striding around it. Man and city belonged to each other. Surely he couldn't die as a result of the city's own punishment system?

These troubling thoughts put Pez into a bleak state of mind. Instead of feigning his normal ridiculous moods, he plunged into a somber one. He began counting backward in Haslina"any scholar would recognize the language but it sounded strange to the lay ear, and that's what Pez needed. So long as he maintained an air of distraction, even of disturbance, no one at the palace would bat an eyelid over his not cavorting as usual. The numbers he muttered managed to keep him focused as he plunged deeper into the halls toward the harem. He intended to find Ana, but as he approached the forbidden entrance, he turned away. Suddenly the thought of seeing Ana made him feel even more guilty. She would look at him with her large, trusting eyes and hope to hear good news. He had none to givea"no news at all, in fact, other than the grave observation that most likely Lazar would not survive.

Instead, he waddled down a different series of corridors that took him toward the eunuchs' chambers, an area half encircled by the harem so that the eunuch slaves had easy access to the women they served.

Deliberately Pez began to mutter. "Where is Kett, must find Kett, how is Kett, our new pet?"

A passing slave heard him. "Hello, Pez."

"Kett?" Pez asked, forcing a dazed expression onto his face and picking his nose.

The slave nodded in recognition. "Is that the new boy?"

Pez hopped around, not answering. "Poor Kett. Lost his flesh. The knifers took it."

The slave nodded. "He's being attended to now. They're going to remove the stent early, I think. You'll find thema""

Pez didn't linger; everyone was used to the dwarf doing everything except observing good manners. He belched instead and skipped backward down the corridor. After the man had gone by, shaking his head, Pez doubled back. He didn't need to be told that the priest and his knifers would be in the Hall of the Precious, a large, airy chamber with a glass-domed roof and a central table upon which the victim was laid for the unraveling of his bandages. It seemed to Pez to be premature for Kett to be unbound but he was no physic, and knew that sometimes it was necessary to remove the bandages early.

In the hall, he found Kett upon the table, supine and groaning. The marble table was slightly tilted and had grooved sides with a drain at the bottom. It had been used for centuries during this procedure.

Salmeo, of course, presided over the event. "Ah, Pez," he lisped. "We wondered where you'd got to. Proceed," he directed the priest.

Pez hummed distractedly but focused on Kett, who seemed to have lost much weight though his belly was bulging obscenely. The dwarf began to giggle, pointing at the boy's enlarged abdomen.

"Have respect, dwarf!" Salmeo hissed, then turning back to the priest, he inquired, "Are you sure about this?"

"Do you care?" the man responded testily.

Salmeo leaned forward, the air between the priest and himself suffused with the scent of violet. "I don't. But I think the Valide would prefer to know that her old friend's child and the former playmate to her son survives."

"In that case, I think this is our only choice," the priest said unflinchingly, directing the careful unwrapping of the bandages. "See how he perspires and trembles. His body is being poisoned by itself. We must release the fluid and hope he is strong enough. Normally, I would only do this after three whole days had passed, but the swelling of his body is a dangerous sign."

The Grand Master Eunuch nodded. "Do it."

"If no liquid is passed when we remove the stent, then he is as good as dead." Lowering his voice, the priest spoke in a whisper. "It would be best to help him along should that occur."

"I understand."

As the final bandages were removed, the horrific wound inflicted by the sharp curved blade was revealed, the pewter tube looking insanely odd as it poked upward from the mess of the boy's groin. The men attending to him became silent and still, Pez was sure they were all remembering their own similarly traumatic experiences.

"He is young," Salmeo muttered softly as if to reassure himself as the priest, reciting a prayer, reached for the pewter stick.

As the man pulled on the stent, Kett screamed.

"Pah! It is stuck," the priest admitted. "Quick, warm water and oil to ease the flesh back. Hurry!" His attendants bathed the area, and although Pez presumed they were trying to be gentle, it did not sound that way. Kett continued to writhe pathetically against the strong arms that pinned him to the cool marble. They were not able to soften his protest, though, and he sang it loudly, cursing the very mothers who bore them, losing vital strength with each insult.

The priest pulled again sharply on the tube and it gave. Behind it gushed a torrent of bloodied water and the relief in Kett's anguished sighs was obvious. The flow continued with force for several seconds and then dwindled, but didn't stop for a long time, and Pez noted now how well designed that marble table was as it drained the waste efficiently, allowing the slightly fevered body to cool.

Salmeo looked expectantly at the priest, who nodded. "He will live," he pronounced. "The water is running clear."

"I shall tell the Valide," Salmeo said, his shoulders relaxing as he departed, ignoring Pez, who danced away from beneath the approaching bulk.

Pez approached the table. "Can he hear me if I sing?"

"He is conscious," the priest answered patiently.

"And what if I whispered?" He grinned insanely.

The priest rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Don't upset him, Pez," he warned.

That was the last thing Pez intended but he smiled indolently all the same, knowing that no one present could deny him anything he chose to do. Leaning close to Kett's head, he whispered, "Kett, it's Pez. You've made it."

The boy said nothing, although his groans continued. "I'm going to make a suggestion for your work and you're going to accept it the moment it's offered. Understand? Don't say anything; just take my hand," the dwarf urged, his hand already hovering nonchalantly over Kett's. He felt a soft squeeze. "Good boy," he whispered. "Just trust me now. You get strongera"work hard to heal. Now cry out as if I've antagonized you."

Kett gave a weak yell, and Pez giggled in response.

"Begone, Pez," the priest said wearily. "Isn't it enough that this boy nearly lost his life?"

Pez began to sing nonsense, dancing his way to the door. Kett was safe. Now he had to find Boaz.

LAZAR WAS SEMICONSCIOUS now and raging. The very mild sedative, which was all Ellyana could risk, had worn off and it was taking all of Jumo's strength to hold him still while Zafira finished dressing his wounds.

"His back looks like a bad piece of child's practice sewing," she commented, embarrassed by her work.

"Such beautiful skin he has too," Ellyana said softly from behind.

"Lazar! Hush!" Jumo cried. "We are tending to you."

"He can't help it, Jumo, and he cannot hear you, I suspect," Ellyana advised in her quiet manner. "It's the poison. It makes him angry." At Jumo's quirked eyebrows she asked, "You are amused?"

"He's always angry," Jumo replied drily. "But I presume this is a good omen, him being disturbed enough to fight us?"

Once again his hopes were dashed. "The opposite. It means the poison is winning."

"I'm finished," Zafira interrupted wearily, stretching. "His wounds are sewna"as best I cana"the salve is on and I've dressed his entire back."