Dave Duncan – Faery Lands Forlorn – A Man of his Word. Book 2

How typical of Kade to have discovered something like this! My enemy’s enemy is my friend, as Rap had said. And Kar had spoken of a scent of war in the wind. The Impire had a new marshal of the armies.

The warlock of the east would never be a popular figure in Zark. My enemy’s enemy! If Rasha was now Inos’s enemy, then Azak must be her friend. And Olybino was another common foe. Kade had seen it.

What could Azak do about it, though?

Kade and Zana returned at last, looking weary, but the tea party had to be described for everyone, so it was an hour or more before Inos managed to get her aunt to herself. Once again, they drifted out on the balcony to watch the city and the bay darken into night. Inos leaned on the balustrade; Kade sank into the soft divan, sighing like a contented puppy.

No, Rasha had not seemed suspicious, Kade reported. No, she had not mentioned the previous evening’s meeting. There had been many palace ladies there, of course.

“So when will we get an answer from the Big Man, do you suppose?” Inos asked.

Her aunt blinked up at her. “Oh . . . of course you didn’t hear! He answered at once. You are invited to go sightseeing with him tomorrow.”

Aha! Inos laughed gaily. “You are a sorceress, Aunt!”

“Oh, no, dear!”

So Inos would get that private chat she had been seeking for so long. And now she had even more reason to talk with the sultan. Surely together they could find some way to frustrate the evil Rasha?

Then Inos saw that her aunt was staring at her with an oddly concerned expression. “Something wrong?”

“Oh, no, dear, nothing. Nothing at all. But . . . have you ever met Prince Quarazak?”

“I don’t think so,” Inos said suspiciously. Kade was being devious. ”Describe him.”

“About this high. Handsome young lad, sprightly, reddish coloring. The sultana presented him to me a few days ago. And a couple of his brothers, also.”

“Oh?” Oh! “Tall, like his father?”

“Yes, dear.”

It took Inos several seconds to work out the connection. Then she burst out laughing. “Really, Aunt! Surely you do not imagine I am seriously interested in . . . I mean, my interest in Azak is purely political.”

“Of course, dear.”

“Anything else would be absurd!”

“Of course. I didn’t mean to suggest . . . Of course.”

But Kade had been thinking it. Azak? Admittedly a djinn was more appealing than a goblin, but that was certainly not what Inos had in mind. No, just politics!

“Oh, you needn’t worry about that, Aunt. Barbarians are not my type at all. I’m not attracted to that one!”

“But how does he feel about you?”

“Really, Aunt! If he has that on his mind, then he has a very strange way of showing it! This young prince . . .”

“Quarazak. Quarazak ak’Azak ak’Azakar.”

“Yes. How tall did you say.”

Kade gestured vaguely. “About so. He says he’s eight, but he looks older because of his height.”

Azak was twenty-two.

For a moment Inos’s mind refused to believe the necessary calculations. ”Fourteen? Or maybe thirteen?”

“I suppose so.”

“Gods!” Inos muttered. “That’s disgusting!”

“Yes, dear,” Kade said quietly.

3

The air was cool and clammy, color still undefined. Even the skylarks must still be snoozing in their nests.

In the pearly light of predawn, Inos sat and shivered on Sesame in a stable yard. At her side, Kar was still as a statue on his favorite gray, watching his brother inspect the honor guard of family men.

Inos had expected a confidential chat during a ride in a coach, not a state procession.

She had burned her mouth on her coffee and six coarse Zarkian biscuits lay like lead in her belly, but now she was ready for whatever surprise the sultan was prepared to spring next. At least, she hoped she was. There were no other princes in sight, only wary grooms on the sidelines, and the twenty-five guards with their mounts. Azak was examining them like a trader planning an offer.

“Family men are royalty from other cities?” she asked. Kar smile without turning his head. “Mostly.”

“Is this what happens to unwanted princes?”

“Some sink even lower.”

“How much lower?”

“They sell their skills for silver and serve commoners!” Kar said with infinite contempt.

“But when a throne changes hands somewhere—”

“Thrones change buttocks. In Zark, monarchy is denoted by a sash. Sashes change men.”

“Very well. If a new sultan succeeds, might some of these guards then be summoned back to their homes?”

Kar started to nod, then suddenly frowned. It was gone in an instant, but that was the first frown she had ever seen on him. One of the family men had been dismissed and was leading his horse away. Friend Kar had missed something, perhaps? “Explain, please,” Inos said meanly.

He beamed. “A poorly fitted shoe. I thought it would pass, but the Big Man’s standards are higher than mine.”

“The man will be punished? How?”

Kar turned his smile full on her for the first time. “One of his sons will be beaten.”

“That’s wicked!”

“They all knew what their oath meant when they swore.”

“How much of a beating?” she asked queasily. “Probably just one lash for each year of his age.”

“I suppose the man himself has to choose which son?” She was beginning to understand the sadistic thinking.

“Yes.”

“And he must watch, I suppose?”

“He must do it.”

That ended the conversation.

Azak completed his inspection. He swung up into the saddle of one of his black stallions, which put up a small show of resistance and then calmed. He had at least a dozen of those beauties, and Inos recognized this one as Dread, one of the least cantankerous and therefore something of a disappointment to him. He walked it over to her as Kar rode off to line up the guard.

The last time Inos had seen the sultan he had been summoned to an old crone’s bed like a gigolo, and yet his gaze was steady and unashamed as their eyes met. It was Inos who blushed. She felt her face grow hot—where was her Kinvale poise when she needed it?

The jeweled belt he always wore was missing. Instead he bore a gleaming baldric across his chest, a narrower strip of the same silver mesh studded with emeralds. Then she realized that it was the identical piece, that normally he must keep it wrapped four or five times around his waist, out of the way. This was probably how it was supposed to be worn, the symbol of kingship. His clothes were the finest she had ever seen on him, so embroidered and emblazoned with precious stones that they might hold half the wealth of the kingdom.

The mutual scrutiny ended. Inos had brought a riding crop expressly so she could salute him with it, and she now did so, wondering if the curse would interpret that as an admission of his status. All that happened was that Azak arched one shapely auburn brow almost into his turban—an annoying trick she had seen him use before.

“You will have to cover your face in public.”

“Of course. I am sorry you find my appearance distasteful!” She should have known she would never embarrass him. As she moved to adjust her headcloth, he said, “Not just at the moment, but later. We princes have heard of Imperial ways and enjoy admiring feminine beauty as much as imps do.”

Princes also enjoyed seeing how much blush they could provoke.

“But the common folk would be shocked,” he added imperturbably.

“Then you should educate them, Cousin.”

“But in what ways? Imperial ladies uncover their faces, but merwomen expose their breasts, and Arakkaran is much closer to the Kerith Islands than to Hub.”

Following the vanguard of family men, Azak rode out from his palace. Sesame paced smoothly on his right, and Kar’s gray on the left. The route ran southward, through olive groves and shady hollows, still shiny with dew.

“I am glad to be spared another day in the desert, your Majesty,” Inos said, able to give him his title beyond the palace grounds.

Azak glanced down—he was very high above her. “You haven’t seen true desert yet. It is hard and cruel, but it brings out the strength of a man. It does not tolerate weaklings. Farmland feels soft and decadent to me. Please call me by my name, Inosolan.”

His ability to take her by surprise was infuriating. “Of course, Azak. ”

“No one else in the kingdom may.”

Again taken by surprise, she looked up, and he was regarding her with amusement.

“I want to talk about Rasha.”

He scowled and shook his head. “Not now. You wanted to see my kingdom. This is a good chance. I thought you might also care for a brief lesson in kingship. You may find it useful when you come into your inheritance.”

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