Salmeo pulled a grape from the glistening bunch of black fruit one of his attendants had delivered. He bit down on the grape, enjoying the explosion of juice, letting it trickle down his throat as he considered his position. He spat the seeds out. Yes, he knew what he had to do now.

BOAZ WAS FEELING UPLIFTED by the Vizier's visit. It was such an odd sensation to actually like the man and yet he couldn't help it.

Just then Bin emerged, looking slightly uncomfortable. "It's the Grand Master Eunuch, my Zar. He seems very agitated."

"Important, you think?" Boaz asked.

The man nodded. "I believe it is."

"Show him into my study. I don't want to see him here." Bin turned to leave. "And he is not to know that I've been with the Vizier," Boaz added as an afterthought, and regretted it when he saw the crestfallen look on his servant's face. Boaz knew Bin was far too discreet to let such a thing slip but Salmeo had a way of finding out anything and everything.

Bin exited and reappeared a few moments later. "He awaits you, my Zar."

Boaz nodded and made the eunuch wait another three minutes before he stepped into the study. "You asked to see me, Chief Eunuch," he said, knowing how Salmeo preferred to be addressed by his grander title.

"Forgive me for the interruption, my Zar," the huge man replied, bowing.

"I imagine it must be important."

"It's about the Spur."

"I thought we'd settled that. I want to put it from my mind. It is not easy passing sentence on a man's life, especially one as seemingly loyal as Horz."

Salmeo fixed a chastened expression onto his face. "I can only imagine. But my conscience weighs heavily upon me, my Zar."

"Explain why."

"Thank you, High One. I've been wondering how Horz would have been able to dip the thongs of the Viper's Nest into the drezden without an accomplice. You see, my Zar, although the head of the Elim would have access to the dispensarya"and thus the poisona"he would not have had such ready access to the whips. These particular instruments are looked after by the Inflictors alone."

"Well, we've established that the head of the Inflictors was away, correct?"

"Yes, my Zar, he still is."

"So that negates his involvement. And his deputy was unwell?"

"That's right, Zar Boaz. Rah was running a high fever. I sent my own physic to care for him," Salmeo lied. "The physic can corroborate how sick the Deputy Inflictor was."

Yes, I'm sure he can, Boaz thought viciously. "Is he feeling better?"

"The fever has run its course, Zar Boaz, but he is still unable to work. At the time of the Spur's flogging, he was unable to hold himself upright."

"So that leaves us with who?" Boaz asked, knowing with a deep sense of pity whose name was about to be announced.

"There is only one other person, my Zar, who could open the weapons bureau. That's Shaz."

"Now, why do you think a young man like Shaz would want to murder the Spur?"

"There is only one thing that propels most men into committing dark deeds, my Zar." Salmeo's lisp was pronounced now as he spoke softly.

Boaz smelled a vague breath of violets wafting over him. "And what is that?"

"Money, Zar Boaz. Money alone galvanizes most mena"young or olda"into action."

"What about love? Respect? Loyalty?"

"Powerful indeed, but riches are compelling, especially for a man who barely sees more than a few karels a month, Zar Boaz. What if he was promised what sounded like a small fortune?"

Boaz had heard enough. "Take me to the Inflictors' quarters."

"Now, my Zar?"

"Immediately."

"They will probably be resting after practice sessions," Salmeo risked.

Boaz fixed the eunuch with a look that was hard enough to crush rocks. "You disturbed my rest, Chief Eunuch, because you felt it was too important to leave until later. Let's sort this out now. If we're going to have another execution on our hands, I want them done together and I want this whole matter put behind us."

Salmeo bowed obsequiously. "Of course, my Zar," he said, straightening. "Let us go now."

Boaz had very little to say to the eunuch as they made their way to the Inflictors' quarters. Instead he spoke quietly to Bin, whom he'd asked to accompany them, using the time to brief his secretary on what had transpired.

The few people they met were daunted by the trio and either bowed low as they swept through corridors or flattened themselves against the walls to bow in their wake, muttering words of joy to the Mightiest of the Mighties. Boaz ignored them. He was in no mood to be generous of spirit and he noted, not for the first time, that it didn't matter anyway. The truth was he could do what he liked, act how he felt. He could slap passersby if he so wished, and he knew, with a terrible sense of destiny, that they would probably thank him for acknowledging them. It was easier to pretend they meant nothing and ignore their cringing good wishes.

After crossing several courtyards, Salmeo finally pushed open a timber door that led into a small wing of the palace that housed the Inflictors' quarters. Inside, people at their work dropped to their knees as though suddenly stricken by a sickness. It was most unusual for any royal, least of all the Zar himself, to visit these humble accommodations. Boaz fixed a tight smile at his mouth, moving swiftly behind the bulk of Salmeo to step inside the main chamber.

The Deputy Inflictor sat inside. At Salmeo's entrance, he visibly paled. "Grand Master Eunuch, this isa"" He cut off his words as he saw who accompanied Salmeo. It took moments to register that the Zar was, in fact, standing before him. He fell to his knees. "Oh Great One!"

Boaz winced. "Please stand. You are?"

The man trembled. Boaz could appreciate that his arrival might make the deputy nervous but the man seemed unnecessarily terrified. Did he have something to hide? "I am Rah, Great One, the Deputy Inflictor."

"Ah, good. Are you alone?"

"My wife and son are inside, my Zar. Is anything wrong?" Rah stammered, glancing toward Salmeo, who pursed his lips. The sign was enough to alert the Deputy Inflictor that this was official business and it didn't take him more than a moment's consideration to realize what it must be about.

"Can we talk somewhere privately?" Boaz suggested.

"Er, you're welcome to come into my humble quarters, my Zar," Rah offered uncertainly.

Boaz nodded. "Send your wife and son outsidea"this is not for their ears."

The family was hurried away and Rah returned, embarrassed, awkward, and betraying his nervousness through twitching hands and a voice far from steady. "May I offer some refreshment, my Zar, Ia""

"No, that won't be necessary. I'm here to clarify something with you, Rah, and I insist that you converse with me in all honesty, without fear of reprisals."

The man nodded dumbly, again glancing at Salmeo.

Boaz was tired of Salmeo's imposing presence. "Grand Master Eunuch," he said, "you may wait outside."

Salmeo bristled but bowed nonetheless and departed. Boaz watched him carefully for any sign of threat to Rah but the eunuch's face remained blank.

As he had done with Horz, Boaz turned now to the deputy. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"No, High One," the man spluttered, terrified.

"Be calm, man. I am here only to ask you a question." Rah nodded, wide-eyed. "I want to know if anyone, bar the Inflictors, has access to your instruments."

Rah shook his head immediately. Boaz, already suspicious, felt his reaction was too swift. Most people, he was certain, would show some consternation at being asked such an odd question without preamble. "No, my Zar," Rah continued, his voice laced with horror. "Absolutely no one has access to the canes, whips, or any of our implements of punishment. Why do you ask?"

"Because a man has died. You've heard about the Spur?"

Rah looked thunderstruck. "He died? Forgive me, my Zar, I have only just recovered from my illness."

It was either a superbly rehearsed act or the man was telling the truth. "How did you learn about the Spur claiming the Right of Protectorship?"

"The Grand Master Eunuch came to see me. He was shocked that I was sick, my Zar, and incapable of doing the job. He already knew that our Inflictor Felz was not even in Percheron city. He was at a loss as to what to do."

Boaz knew better. Salmeo was rarely at a loss when it came to intrigue. "So he asked your advice?"

The man nodded fearfully. "I didn't have much to give. If I could have stood unaided, I would have done it myself, my Zar. Forgive me. It was I who suggested Shaza"when the Grand Master Eunuch explained that the job had to be done immediatelya"he was our only option. Shaz has been well trained and is our best apprentice. He knew what he had to doa"I believe the tension of the moment and the celebrity of the Spur must have unraveled him. I had high hopes he would do all right."

"Well, he didn't. He was perspiring, nervous, and trembling. He was incapable of handling this task. I could see as much and I was the farthest person from him."

"I can't imagine he killed the Spur, though, Mighty One."

"No, I don't believe he did. I think the poison might have had something to do with it."

The man's head snapped back in shock. "Poison," he whispered. "You jest," he urged, forgetting his manners and all protocol.

"I would never jest about something as grave as this. The Spur of Percheron is dead because someone dipped the whip in poison before it was used on his back."

The man blanched. There was no way, in Boaz's estimation, that his reaction could have been contrived.

"Who chose the snake?"

Rah could barely talk, so great was his shock. Finally he stammered, "I can't imagine why he would do such a foolish thing, my Zar, but Shaz would have made that choice. The Elim and Grand Master Salmeo have never involved themselves in such a decision. They have always left weapon choice to the Inflictors."

"What could possibly have made him choose the hardest weapon to wield on his first living victim?"

Rah shrugged lightly. "Maybe the lad got excited. Shaz knows he's the best apprentice by far, so it's possible that arrogance could have gotten in the way of good sensea"you know how youngsters like to show off." And then he caught himself, suddenly realizing that he was talking to someone not far from Shaz's own age. "Perhaps the boy is in debt to someone and he was bribed?" he offered softly. "I didn't know any of this, my Zar, until now."

Boaz felt light-headed. Surely he would not have to order the execution of Shaz as well as Horz? In his heart he knew Horz was not guilty, nor could he imagine the man paying a boy to do his dirty work. The Elim were too proud for that. And yet Boaz had no proof of innocence for either Shaz or Horz, only evidence of guilt. He felt a blood rage threatening. "I have found what I came for," he said tightly, and turned, angry and distraught.

He stomped out of the small dwelling and strode past Salmeo, who stood a little distance from the main door, looking grave. As the Zar disappeared, Salmeo turned to Rah, who had appeared at the doorway, still trembling.

"Did he believe your story? Did you tell it precisely as I instructed?"

All Rah could do was nod and mutter, "Zarab help me." It was obvious he was feeling sickened to his soul. Not only had he lied to his Zar but he had also incriminated innocent Shaz, whose only flaw might be that he strove too hard to please those he worked for.

"You have done well. Your family will liveaand they will thank you for your steadfastness."

Rah began to weep. "What will happen to Shaz?"

"Who cares?" Salmeo replied, smiling cruelly. "Don't worry about hima"collect a purse from me tomorrow after it's done. That will ease your troubled conscience, Deputy."

SHAZ WAS ONLY JUST beginning to recover from the previous day's trauma. He had not yet heard the news that the Spur had died and he lived in hope that the man he had admired and cut so badly would forgive him. He planned to be one of the first to visit the Spura"if he would be permitted to do soa"so that he could beg forgiveness in person. He'd even changed his mind about his profession. He no longer wanted to be an Inflictor. Flogging a man was nothing like flogging the practice dummies. Felz had said all he had to do was remove his emotion and pretend the man tied to the post was just a dummy. But Shaz had been unable to distance himself from the emotion or the reality. Had he not been in front of the Zar, whom he also admired, he would have refused to continue after his first few botched lashes, no matter the harsh consequences. It would have been hard enough to complete the punishment with a single whip. Putting the Snake into his hands had been a ludicrous order.

He was taking a rest after a practice session when the soldiers came for him. They were angry too. News that their leader was dead had flared around the barracks as fast as a raging firea"killed by the ineptness of an apprentice Inflictor who was deep in a conspiracy led by debt and greed. Salmeo would be pleased at how quickly his fabricated tale was being embellished by gossip.

Shaz was dragged from his bed, slapped and punched, kicked and shoved, as the four men moved him, without explanation, from his tiny room to the Pit, where he joined Horz. The older man, saddened by the young man's cries, figured out what had transpired and gave a nod of appreciation at Salmeo's cunning.

He and Shaz would die tomorrow for a crime they were innocent of commiting, but Horz knew he would die proudly and calmly. He was ready, had accepted his fate from the moment Salmeo began his threats. The Elim were trained to accept their destiny; this was his. He was regretful only that his death was not enough for Salmeo. It was a pity the boy had to die too. Poor Shaz. In the darkness of his stone cell, Horz sent a prayer to Zarab that the ending of their lives would be swift, if not for him, then certainly for the young man.

28.

Pez sat alone in the marble coolness of the palace infirmary with Kett and watched the slave hobble back and forth unaided. "Is it working properly?" he asked carefully.

"With the help of the tube," the boy answered, turning away so the dwarf would not have to share his troubles.

"It's all right, Kett. I won't say I understanda"how can I? But I do understand your grief. I think it is important to weep and mourn your loss."

The boy cleared his throat nervously. "The Grand Master Eunuch came to see me."

"And?"

"He wants me to present myself for duty tomorrow."

"Has he given you a role yet?"

"No. I'll just be one of his slaves, in the harem. My dream of working for Spur Lazar must be buried," Kett answered, the pain of his shattered hopes evident in his voice.

Pez realized he had found yet another person whose life had been touched by Lazar. The boy would grieve when he learned of the Spur's fate. "Kett, be patient. Wheels are turning that I can't explain just yet. I'm optimistic you will have a position to your liking."

"Oh?"

The hope in the boy's voice was gut-wrenching. "I will tell you more when I am more certain."

"Pez, may I be plain with you?"

"Of course. I am with you."

"Yes, that's what troubles me. You are sane."