Wizard of the winds

CHAPTER TWENTY

She was a rare woman. She had beauty, she had wealth, she had power.

She was also a woman of mystery, which in the time of the Demon Moon made her the rarest of women among men.

Her crestthe sign of the House of Fatinahwas a silver dagger and there was much talk of how it had come to be.

Some said it had been the crest of her late, unlamented husband, Lord Fatinah, a merchant among merchants so smitten by his young wife he'd left her his fortune. The Lady Fatinah, it was said, hastened her husband's departure from this world with his own dagger, which was made of silver. That the woman wore rich gowns all of mourning black and bearing the silver dagger crest added credence to this story.

Others speculated she'd once been the favorite courtesan of a king, perhaps even Protarus himself. In this version she'd come up the loser in a harem war and was driven out, but with many chests of gold and rare stones to speed her departure. Some said she'd slain her rival with a silver dagger, but the death caused such a scandal she was banished from the harem. Once again the tale of the aging Lord Fatinah came into play. Rumor mongers said the marriage was arranged to sidestep the scandal. They also said Lord Fatinah died before the marriage was consummated. Again, the dying nobleman had been so enamored of his beauteous wife that he'd bequeathed her all his worldly goods.

The curious throngs of Zanzair, with nearly as many humans as demons among them, babbled those tales and others when she passed by in her carriage, with the silver daggers emblazoned on each door.

The Lady Fatinah had demon outriders to push the throngs back and a human driver to hurry the matched black team of horses along. A burly demon guard sat next to the driver, sweeping the crowd with his ever watchful eyes.

Inside, Lady Fatinah's representative to Zanzair gushed on about all the arrangements he'd made in anticipation of her visit.

"You will see with your own eyes, My Lady, the man said, that you chose wisely when you picked Abubensu to tend to your business in Zanzair."

He gestured out the window. They were traveling through the bazaar, an exotic scene of demons and humans haggling with stall keepers, or munching strange delights from the food carts; of families strolling along, purchases in hand, trailing human children and demon kits in their wake.

"Zanzair is surely the most marvelous city in the whole history of Esmir, Abubensu said. Since our beloved king, Iraj Protarus, made it the center of his empire seven years ago, beings of every variety have flocked here, hoping against hope they can clutch the king's cloak and fly away with him to prosperity."

He raised a cautioning finger. But Zanzair is also a most dangerous place, My Lady, he said. Some who came were honest business folk, like myself. But many were thieves, both of the common and noble-born variety.

"And the intrigue! He shuddered. I can tell you stories about the intrigue and disgraceful goings on at the Royal Court that would set your teeth on edge."

"I'm sure you can, Lady Fatinah said smoothly. And I'd be delighted to listen to your delicious tales at another time. But I hope you understand I have other things on my mind just now. Such as the living arrangements."

Abubensu beamed. What a genteel and soft-worded employer he had. Quite unlike a woman who'd supposedly killed her husband. And so beautiful! Abubensu had never been this close to such a woman. She filled her expensive black gown quite pleasingly. Her lips were full, dark eyes sparkling with what he dared dream was promise.

"You'll love the house I've found for you, My Lady, he said. It sits on a hill, quite by itself. The night view of Zanzair is simply overwhelming. Especially the view of Protarus palace. It's solid gold, you know, and when all the lights are turned on and the fountains are at play, why you would think it was the heavenly palace of a god."

"The view sounds most pleasant, Lady Fatinah said, wiping the chin of her childa boy whose age was just past suckling and just short of speech. His name was Palimak, the Walarian word for promise.

"But to be frank, she continued, it's more important to me that it have a good nursery."

"Remodeled to your exact specifications, My Lady, Abubensu said. The grandest nursery ever created. No expense was spared."

"I hope it isn't too grand, Lady, the nurse broke in. She was a small woman, round and with a deep grandmotherly bosom. Large spaces can be frightening to a child."

"There's a separate room for you right next to the young master's, Scani, Abubensu hastened to tell the nurse. It's quite comfortable and you'll have no trouble keeping your eye on him."

Scani looked doubtful and started to speak, but Lady Fatinah silenced her with a warning look. The nurse took Palimak from Lady Fatinah's arms and fussed and cooed over him, making furiously whispered promises that no matter where he slept, Scani would always be nearby.

Abubensu went on. Your neighbors, he said, are all of wealth and breeding like yourself, My Lady. Their homes are close enough to give comfort, but distant enough to ensure privacy."

"I mentioned in my letter, Lady Fatinah said, that I'd like to host a banquet as soon as possible to introduce myself to Zanzarian society."

"It has been done, My Lady! Abubensu said with a pleased smile. As a matter of fact I've taken the liberty of arranging an affair two nights from now. Invitations have been sent to a favored fewall beings of quality, mind you. And your staff, which I picked myself, is at this moment readying the banquet."

"There was one person in particular I asked you to invite, Lady Fatinah said. Was that done?"

Abubensu bobbed his head. Yes, My Lady. Lord Timura has been invited."

"And has he accepted?"

He hesitated. Alas, My Lady, not as yet."

"But you expect him to? Lady Fatinah pressed.

The little man shrugged. I can't promise, My Lady, he said. After all, he is the Grand Wazier, second only to King Protarus in importance."

Abubensu attempted a bit of gossip to steer conversation away from disappointment. They were childhood friends, you know, he said. They even call each other by their first namesSafar and Irajwhen in private."

He leaned closer, voice conspiratorial. Although it is said that Lord Timura is not in such good grace with His Majesty these days. He has enemies who whisper ill things in the king's ear."

A dramatic shrug. Who knows if these things are true, My Lady, he said. Perhaps it is best after all if Lord Timura fails to attend. Why bring his political troubles to your esteemed doorstep?"

Lady Fatinah's eyes narrowed. I want him at the banquet, she said, and there was no mistaking her firmness in the matter.

Abubensu struggled with his answer, clearly at a loss. I will try, My Lady, he said, but I can't swear that it's possible."

Lady Fatinah smiled, saying, I have every faith in you, Abubensu."

She handed him a silk purse filled with coin. Favor who you want with those, she said. Abubensu hefted the purse, brows rising as he noted the weight. And you may keep whatever is left over for yourself.

"But make certain Lord Timura is there."

She turned to look out the window.

They'd come to a wide square and when she looked north she could see the blossoming trees that edged the Royal Gardens.

Beyond were the spires of the Grand Palace, glittering eerily under the ever-present Demon Moon.

Nerisa wondered if Safar would remember her after all these years.

"In the end, King Protarus said, it all reduces itself to money."

He snorted in disgust, an action much noted by the members of the assembled Royal Court. His snort would frame their discussions, dreams and nightmares for many days to come. Policy would be set because of that snort. Alliances threatened, reformed, or shattered. Thousands of miles away, men both small and large would tremble when news arrived of the king's sharply expelled breath.

"Every time I need to do something, Protarus said, I'm told the cost is too dear. And when Isimple plainsman that I amsuggest the solution is to get more money, why I'm told there's no more to be had!"

The king's glare flowed down the several-leveled courtroom. First it took in Safar, his Grand Wazier and second in command, next the platform where King Lukawhose formal title was Prince of Zanzairsat with Lord Fari and other important demons. Below were the Protarus generals and top aides, a mixed lot that included demons and a few of his remaining rough plainsmen. Keeping himself slightly apart from this group was Kalasariz, who daily measured the distance and height between him and Safar. Beyond was the main floor of the courtroom, a vast area of hierarchical flatness where some courtiers were known to wear boosted up bootheels so they could stand taller and imagine they held greater favor with the king.

"Someone explain to me how this can be, Protarus demanded. I am monarch of all Esmir. I number my subjects by the millions. All of whom seem to be going about making money and prospering, while their king lacks the basic means of running the kind of kingdom where they can prosper."

Protarus shook his head. My problem is that I'm too generous, he said. I made all my friends wealthy. Palaces, lands, money… Money! There's that word again!"

He looked at Safar. You have money, Lord Timura, he said. Why don't I?"

"You have only to ask, Majesty, Safar said, and I will give it all back to you."

Frustrated, Protarus rapped the edge of his throne with bejeweled knuckles. That's not the point, Lord Timura, he said. I'm not that sort of monarch. Once I give a gift, I never ask for its return."

Leiria, Safar's guard and bedmate, stirred uncomfortably. She'd once been such a gift.

"The point is this, Protarus continued, you have money and I don't because you have only your own household to keep up."

Protarus hand swept across the courtroom, taking it all in. I've got a kingdom to maintain. That's my household! And where does my household money go? Not for luxuries, that's for certain.

"The gods know I'm a man of simple tastes."

No one dared mention this was a great exaggeration. Protarus had long since shed his soldierly past and reveled in the comforts and pleasures of being King of Kings. He had many palaces, all fully staffed, vast stables of fine mounts of every variety and purpose, huge rooms packed with decorative weapons and armor, bulging storehouses and wine cellars, and immense harems stocked with a continuously refreshed supply of women.

The king sighed and sagged back in his throne, weary. The seven year reign had been difficult and it showed. Although he was still a man of less then thirty summers, he looked ten years older. His pride, his long golden locks, had thinned and he'd taken to wearing a jeweled skull cap beneath his crown. His beard was streaked with gray strands and his brow was plowed with worry lines.

"Tell us the problem again, Lord Timura, he said. Lay it out fully so all can see."

Safar murmured respectful assent and rose. He strode up to Protarus level and motioned to some men-in-waiting to pull aside the immense curtain behind the king's throne.

The wall was covered with a tremendous bas relief of Esmir. The largest features were the Gods Divide, splitting much of the land from east to west, and the great desert, no longer forbidden, which had once separated human and demons.

Safar palmed a few pellets, hurled his hand downward in a dramatic gesture and there were several sharp retorts, drawing gasps from the courtincluding Irajand a thin haze of smoke curtained up from floor to ceiling. Behind the haze the bas relief suddenly glowed into being, causing a low chorus of amazement. They were looking at a living map of Esmir, complete with small moving figures, forests waving in the winds and waves beating distant shores.

Safar made a low bow to Iraj, with a sweeping showman's flourish.

"Behold your kingdom, Majesty, he announced.

Fari thought, I wonder how Timura does it? Not the living map… I understand that. Possibly even reproduce it, given a look at his notes. But the explosions and haze are another matter. Where was the magic? I sensed nothing!

This mystery was only one of several reasons Fari believed Safar must go.

Iraj's mood lightened. He clapped, saying, Oh, very good, Safar. Very good!"

This was followed by a small patter of applause from the court. Luka grimly rattled his talons in false appreciation.

He thought, why all the flourishes and dramatic gestures? You would think this was entertainment instead of the serious business of administration. He's playing up to us, especially to Protarus.

Luka bitterly resented Safar's influence over Protarus. As Prince of Zanzair, Luka considered himself the second most important potentate in Esmir. He should be advising Protarus, not that commoner Safar Timura.

"Here are the locations of our most troubled regions, Majesty, Safar said.

He made another gesture and small flames flickered through the haze. There were at least two score spread out all over the kingdom. The flames were of different sizes, some minor glows where trouble was only starting, to larger spears of fire where things were nearly out of control.

"So many, Protarus murmured.

He shot a sharp glare at Kalasariz, saying, You never told me there were so many!"

"Ah, yes, ah, I can explain, Your Majesty, Kalasariz fumbled. Delayed reports… because of the… ah… difficulties."

Iraj gave him a cold nod and turned back to the map.

"This is the very latest information I have from our temples, Safar said. And for the first time I think we can see just how widespread our problems are."

Kalasariz seethed anger for being upstaged by the Grand Wazier. The spy master preferred to show the king what he wanted him to know so he could control events. That damnable Timura, with his damnable network of priests, was stabbing him in the back.

Not for the first time, Kalasariz swore that some day he'd rid himself of Timura.

"The greatest problem seems to be in Caspan, Majesty, Safar said, pointing at the leaping flames near the edge of the western sea.

"Yes, yes, Protarus said. That's why the subject of money came up. We need to send troops there and put down the rebellion. But I was informed by my treasurer I didn't have the money to pay for it. The coffers, it seems, are empty."

His gaze flickered over the map, once again noting the number. Finally he eyes came to rest on Caspan, nearly ringed with fire.

"Money must be found for Caspan, he said. The question is where to get it."

"Taxes, Your Majesty, Luka broke in. That's the answer. More taxes must be gathered. As you said, your subjects are enjoying prosperity because of your efforts. They should be willing to pay a fair price for that prosperity."

"I must disagree, Majesty, Safar said. There is no general prosperity. A few areas, perhaps, but only those untouched by drought and plague. And, I might remind my noble friend, King Luka, these conditions have not only prevailed, but become worse over the past ten years."

Fari snorted. Hadin, again! he muttered.

Safar whirled on the old demon. I've shown you the evidence, he said. How can you deny the truth?"

"I'm not denying anything, Fari said. Certainly there are problems. And possibly they were caused by some magical calamity in Hadin.

"What I disagree with most strongly is that these problems are necessarily long lasting. There have been calamities before. Droughts come. Droughts go. Plagues come. Plagues go. It's the gods natural cycle. So only the best and most devout will live on to enjoy their well-deserved rewards."

"I won't quarrel with my esteemed colleague, Majesty, Safar said. You want to hear solutions, not debate.

"I have one such solution to propose."

Protarus stirred. Do you now?"

"I find myself agreeing with King Luka, Majesty, Safar said.

Luka frowned. Where was this going?

"Taxes are the answer, Majesty, Safar said. Only, don't tax those who already pay. Tax those who don't."

Kalasariz eyes narrowed. So that's his game, he thought.

"Tax me, Majesty, Safar said. I not only benefited from your gifts, but I pay no taxes on them."

Safar pointed to Luka, then Fari, then Kalasariz, and all around the room, pointing at each nobleman in turn.

"We have all prospered, Majesty, he said. But we pay nothing for it."

Protarus was interested. I've often commented that generosity is my greatest virtue and flaw, he said. Apparently I've forgiven more taxes than is good for me."

"Exactly, Majesty, Safar said. I'm sure all of my colleagues would be delighted to share your heavy burden during this emergency."

"Ah, an emergency tax, Protarus said. Maybe calling it that would wipe off some of the sour looks in this group. He smiled at Luka and Fari. Both forced smiles in return. He went back to Safar"A temporary tax, lasting only through the emergency. That might go down better, politically speaking."

"I for one do not fear sacrifice, Luka said. But I must point out that the money wouldn't be enough. It would pay for Caspan, perhaps. He pointed at the array of trouble spots on the bas relief. But what of the rest?"

"King Luka is quite right, Your Majesty, Kalasariz said. And I also join him in my willingness to sacrifice and share your burden.

"I also question the nature of the emergency."

He pointed at the bas relief. This is very kind of negativism that is at the root of our problems, Your Majesty!"

Protarus lifted his head, interested.

"We are terrorizing your subjects, Majesty, Kalasariz continued, with all this bad news. It feeds rumor that things are worse. It makes rebels out of weak men. It makes good honest subjects lie to your tax gatherers when they come to collect. And hold back vast amounts of money that rightfully belong to you.

"Vast amounts, Your Majesty. Vast."

"That's theft! Protarus said, angered by the sudden vision of mean-spirited citizens burying huge chests of gold in their cellars.

"Exactly, Your Majesty, Kalasariz said. Theft. No kinder word to put on it. And I propose we end it at once!"

"How would you do this? Protarus asked.

Kalasariz looked around at the huge assembly, then back at the king.

"I think it would be best discussed in private, Majesty, he said.

"I won't do it, Iraj, Safar said. It may be in Kalasariz nature to make such a great lie, but it's not in mine."

"How do you know it will be a lie? Protarus said.

The two men were alone in the king's quarters. Less than an hour before Kalasariz, vigorously supported by Luka and Fari, had outlined his plan. Safar's opposition had been so heated Iraj had sent the three away so he could reason with him in private.

"Kalasariz had a good point about the effect all the negative news is having on the stability of the kingdom, Iraj continued.

"Lies won't make things better, Safar said.

"Again, Iraj said, I don't see where anyone was proposing to lie. Kalasariz merely suggested we declare a national feastday. A feastday that would point up the positive, rather than the negative."

"And what of the casting? Safar asked. The casting that I, as your Grand Wazier, am supposed to oversee?"

"What's wrong with asking the gods when this long crisis will end? Iraj said.

"A great deal, Safar replied, considering that Kalasariz already had the answer he wanted me to report to all Esmir."

He held up a single finger. One year! He shook his head, disgusted. One year… and the world will be well again."

"That's a good number, Iraj said, If people believe things will be better in a year, they won't be so tight-fisted with tax money. Hells, I can even raise the taxes. An emergency measure, like you suggested."

"But on the poor, Safar said, not the rich."

Protarus sighed. It was a good idea, Safar. Not enough money to be gained, but a sound idea just the same.

"Unfortunately it wasn't something I could ever do."

"Why not?"

Another sigh. These are the beings I eat dinner with, Safar. When I entertain, they are my guests. When I hunt, I hunt with them. They're my friends, after all. I don't want to sit around the table with everyone mad at me because I slapped a fat tax on them."

Safar didn't answer.

Protarus looked at him, then nodded, saying, I suppose you're thinking if there are some things I won't do, then I should understand when you have similar reservations."

"Something like that, Safar said.

Actually he'd been thinking how revealing Protarus statement had been. He'd rather starve the starving because he didn't want his wealthy friends mad at him.

"And if we did have a big public casting ceremony, Iraj said, and you saw many difficult years aheadrather than only oneyou'd feel honor bound to report it. Is that right?"

Safar tried to lighten the situation with a smile. Only some of it would be due to honor, Iraj, he said.

"After all, I've got my wizardly reputation at stake. When a year passed and the troubles continued no one would trust me again."

Protarus studied him for a long moment. Then he returned the smile, but his eyes were shielded.

"I can see how you might consider it too great a sacrifice to make, he said.

The meeting ended on that dissatisfying note.

Just before Safar left, the king said, Oh, I almost forgot."

Safar was at the door. What was that?"

"The captain of my guard says it's time for Leiria to drop by the palace for a little brush up on her training."

"I'll be sure to tell her, Safar said.

As soon as the door closed behind him Kalasariz came out of a side room. Behind him were Luka and Fari.

"I'm glad you signaled for us to linger within hearing, Majesty, Kalasariz said. That was a most revealing conversation.

"And I must say you handled him quite smoothly, Majesty. Quite."

It was night when Safar's carriage made the approach to the grand mansion. It was raining so heavily even the Demon Moon was obscured from view.

"Who is this Lady Fatinah, Safar? Leiria asked.

"I'm not quite sure, he answered. Other than she may or may not be a notorious woman."

"She must be more than that, Leiria said, to get the Grand Wazier himself to show up at her welcoming banquet."

Safar peered through the curtains, but the night was so black all he could see was his own reflection in the glass.

"It's that chief clerk of mine, Safar said. He can't resist a bribe. I'd get rid of him, but the extra money he earns dishonestly makes him so efficient I have the best kept schedule of any administrator in Esmir."

"You could have refused, Leiria said. She gave him a teasing smile. But I suppose you're as curious to see her as every man in the city. It's said she's quite beautiful."

"I never know when the event is the result of bribery, or duty, Safar said. It's easier just to go to all of them. Linger an hour or so for appearances sake, then slip off."

"And it doesn't hurt that she's beautiful, Leiria said.

Safar laughed. And notorious, he said. Don't forget that."

Leiria laughed with him, a lovely and exotic woman in her own right in her best dress uniform.

But Safar took note she was unusually inquisitive that night.

And her training session at the palace had been that same morning.

Interesting.

Nerisa saw him come in.

The rain had made the guests tardy but after a time she'd despaired Safar would be among the later arrivals. It had been a difficult evening, doing her best to be a charming and witty hostess to a group of strangers, while at the same time preparing herself for the moment when he arrived.

She didn't want to him think she'd come all this way because she required something. The Lady Fatinah was quite capable of taking care of herself and didn't need a maneven though he might be the Grand Wazierto fend for her. No, she had a duty to perform. A too long delayed duty.

As for her girlish crush on Safar, it was years ago and was, after all, just thatgirlish. Safar was kindly enough at the time to see it and not humiliate her.

She determined when they met she'd be as calm and cool as everyone expected the Lady Fatinah to be.

Then she saw him at the door. One minute the entryway was empty, the next a liveried servant was leading him in.

Someone pointed her out to him and he raised his head and he smiled as their eyes met.

Nerisa was lost.

His eyes were just as blue as she remembered.

Safar was stunned when he saw the woman approach. The Lady Fatinah was every bit as beautiful as people had said. Perhaps even more so in her stunning black gown, cut low to reveal a pearly bosom. The dress clung to her, showing off her long slender figure.

But her face was a cold shield when she came close, hand outstretched to welcome him. The coldness put Safar off, as did her thin smile. This was clearly a woman out for the main advantage, he thought. His clerk had taken a bribe and that was that.

Then their fingers touched and Safar felt her shiver. He looked into her eyessaw the dancing flecks of gold. He saw her lips turn up in a familiar crooked smiled.

"It's Nerisa, Master! Gundara hissed from his breast pocket. Nerisa!"

But Safar had already seen and known. He was in shock, seeing little Nerisa raised from the dead to come back as the beauteous Lady Fatinah.

Nerisa gave his hand a warm, firm squeeze.

She whispered, Don't give me away. Then, loud enough for all to hear, How kind of you to visit my humble home, Lord Timura."

Safar murmured a suitably polite reply.

"I fear we've started without you, My Lord, Nerisa said, pointing at the tables of food. Why don't we dispense with formalities and join the others before you starve to death?

"Perhaps, if you are still in a generous mood, we can have a little chat later and get to know one another."

Safar came unstuck enough to make an awkward bow. In a daze he let a servant lead him over to the banquet area.

Only when he sat down did he realize he'd left Leiria in the entryway without orders. He turned his head and saw her looking in his direction, her face like stone. He whispered a message for a servant to carry to her, saying she could join the other bodyguards in the pantry. But when the message was delivered he saw Leiria give a furious shake of her head, hiss something back, then exit into the storm.

When the servant returned Safar wasn't surprised at her reply: Please tell his Lordship thank you, but I shall wait in his carriage."

This was not good.

Then he heard Nerisa laughthat natural earthy laugh breaking through her facadeand he forgot all about Leiria.

The rain had made the banquet late, but it also caused it to break up early. The guests streamed out, saying they had a lovely time but Her Ladyship would understand that with the storm they had to hurry home.

Nerisa murmured polite good-byes, but the whole time her attention was fixed on Safar, tarrying in an out-of-the-way corner near the verandah. It was as if all the years between them had collapsed into but a few days or weeks. Old emotions were new again, swift torrents hammering against her mature resolve.

She called herself a fool, thinking it was only the stress of the meeting churning up silly emotions. And even if she did still have tender feelings for him, Safar had never shared those feelings. He'd only been kind to an orphan waif. Kindness did not equal love.

Once again she steeled herself and when the last guest was gone she strolled over as casually and easily as any great lady going to greet an old, dear friend.

But when she reached him he leaped to his feet, saying, By the gods, Nerisa, I thought you were dead!"

And he crushed her into his arms.

Outside, Leiria huddled in the carriage, peering through the curtains. Even in the downpour she could make out Safar's familiar figure pacing in front of the wide glass verandah doors.

She saw another figure approacha woman's slender figure.

Lightning crashed, momentarily blinding her.

When her vision returned she saw Safar and the woman embracing.

The last vestiges of Methydia's gentle spell of forgetfulness vanished when Nerisa came into his arms.

A thousand and one thoughts and emotions burst forward, while another thousand and one crowded behind, demanding to be heard.

But all he could say was, Nerisa, my little Nerisa."

He kissed her hair, her cheeks, the tears flowing from her eyes, crushing her against him as if the tightness of his embrace would keep her from turning into a ghost and wisping away.

Then their lips met and the embrace become something else altogether.

It happened so abruptly there was no time for questioning, much less surprise.

Nerisa melted against him, weeping and murmuring his name. She was in a dream, an old sweet dream, and her Safar was holding her close, kissing her, whispering endearments. Passion firing them both beyond control.

She opened her eyes and saw her major domo's shocked face reflected in the glass of verandah doors. But she didn't care and she waved a curt dismissal just as Safar swept her off the floor.

And she said, Yes, yes, please, yes, and somehow she directed him to her rooms.

Then they were in the big soft bed, tearing at each other's clothes.

"After I fled Walaria, Nerisa said much later, I became a caravan lad."

She smiled at the memory, nestling deeper into Safar's arms. I always did play a good boy."

Safar gently caressed her. You wouldn't have such an easy time of it now, he said.

Nerisa giggled. Actually, it became a problem fairly quickly, she said. I suddenly bloomed, as the old grannies gently put it. One day my breeches didn't fit over my hips. The next, I was bursting the seams of my lad's shirt. I had to bind myself down and get looser clothes."

"Did no one ever suspect? Safar asked.

She shook her head. Never. Oh, I got a few odd looks once in awhile. But that was the extent of it. Second glances, nothing more."

Safar said, That leaves a great leap from caravan lad to the rich Lady Fatinah."

"I suppose it does, Nerisa answered. Although it didn't seem like it at the time. I had some money. The gold you gave me. I invested a little of it in some of the caravan goods, made a good profit and invested more."

Nerisa laughed. I found I had a talent for merchanting. All those years as a little thief served me well when it came to picking out bargains and quality goods.

"After a time I had enough to become a minor partner of a very wealthy caravan master."

"Lord Fatinah, by any chance? Safar asked.

Nerisa made a face. It's true he was named Fatinah, she said. But he was no lord. He was a merchant, nothing more. Old, fat and kindly. At least I thought he was being kindly. He treated me like a son."

Another laugh. As it turned out, he merely had a weakness for handsome boys."

Safar stirred. You mean, he…?"

"He… nothing, Nerisa said. Fatinah was an honorable old man. He believed it unseemly to take advantage. I never even knew his feelings toward me… or the boy he thought I was… until just before he died. Then he confessed all. Swore he loved me. And handed me a will, saying I was to inherit all."

"That's when I became a woman… and his widow. The will would never have stood, otherwise. No one would understand, much less believe, that he'd give such a fortune to a mere boy. So I invented our marriage. Paid certain sums to certain people to draw up the necessary documents. No one ever questioned an old man would be fool enough to give his money away to a grasping young woman.

"Even so, the rumors started that I'd killed him. Especially after I purchased the necessary background to make him a nobleman."

"No one ever questioned that? Safar asked.

Nerisa came up on an elbow, that crooked grin of hers playing on her face. A smile that brought a pang of love to Safar's heart, rather than its lesser cousin, Fondness.

"If you play the royal, she said, and you play it well, no one questions anything. Especially if you have money.

"Besides, in these times there's so much chaos all of Esmir is turned upside down. I took advantage of that chaos, running caravans into places no one else dared go. I suppose I made a profit on the troubles of others. But I brought them what they needed. Bought what they no longer had use for. And consoled myself with the thought that I'm Misery's child.

"I believed I had a right."

"I suppose you do, Safar said. Once I'd have said otherwise. She smiled at this. But there are so many greater thieves in this world, thieves who will steal dreams. Thieves who break you. Thieves who would kill all you love, require you to watch, then kill you as well.

"And then steal your heart out of your body to make a sorcerer's meal."

Nerisa embraced himtwining arms and legs about him. Made her body as soft as she could for a shield that would protect him and comfort him from all the devils tormenting him.

She was Nerisa, the thief of Walaria, and she would allow no man she loved to come to harm.

Later she took him into the nursery to meet Palimak. The child was awake, hazel eyes reflecting the candle she carried.

Nerisa picked the child up, wrapping his favorite crib blanket close around him. He was a tubby little thing with dark hair, olive skin and pearly milk teeth.

"This is Safar, she said to the child. The one I've been telling you about all these months."

She made a nervous smile at Safar. This is Palimak, she said.

"My son."

Palimak turned his chubby little face to look at Safar. He kicked his feet in delight and smiled.

His eyes lit up and with a shock Safar saw the hazel turn to a glowing yellow.

Demon yellow!

Nerisa's heart plummeted when she the look on her lover's face.

Safar managed a faint smile and held out a hand. Palimak grabbed his foremost finger and squeezed.

"He's strong! Safar said, dredging a compliment from the depths of his confusion.

Nerisa turned her face to Palimak, hiding her feelings. Of course he's strong, she said. Aren't you strong, my Palimak? The strongest little boy in the world!"

The child gurgled pleasure. Then he threw up, soiling himself and Nerisa's sleeping gown.

"Oh, you bad boy, you! Nerisa scolded. Here I'm trying to show you off and you play the little pig."

Then she burst into tears.

Safar sat beside her, putting his arms around both of them.

"Why are you crying? he asked. Children make messes. That's what they do! Besides making you love them, of course.

"Ask my sisters what a mess I was! No. Come to think of it, don't. They will tell you in excruciating detail what a dirty little boy I was."

Instead of calming her, the words infuriated Nerisa.

"That's not why I'm crying! she said. As you know very well!"

She reached into her gown, drew out an object and threw it on the bed.

"Here! she said. Here's your damned old knife."

Safar stared at it. It was the silver dagger Coralean had given him long ago.

Nerisa wiped her eyes, pulling herself together. That's why I came here, she said. To return the dagger. It's yours. It was wrong of me to keep it. And I was a fool, a stupid, weak fool, to deliver it to you myself instead of sending a messenger."

Palimak stared to cry, which made Nerisa angrier. There, you see what you've done!"

Safar was confused. What have I done?"

"I saw that look on your face, Nerisa said. You think he's a monster! A half demon, half human freak.

"Well, be damned to you. I've had my pleasure. I've had my girlish dream. Safar Timura, my great ideal. The man who had so much kindness in him he could understand anything and anyone. She laughed bitterly. I should have known better. And it's a good lesson for me.

"Now Palimak and I will be on our way. And to the Hells with you! And to the Hells with me for letting you make me into a fool!"

Safar started to get angry himself. This is hardly fair, he said. The least you could have done is warn me. At least you could have"

A voice broke in: Shut up, shut up, shuutt uppp!"

Safar swatted his tunic pocket. Just stop it, he said. I'm not in the mood to hear you argue with Gundaree."

The little Favorite leaped out of his pocket onto the bed. He put his hands on his narrow hips.

"I am not telling Gundaree to shut up, he said.

His eyes swept over Safar, then Nerisa, then Palimak. Back to Safar again.

"I am telling you to shut up, Master, he said. And you too, Nerisa."

He sighed. You were the first one to give me sweets in a thousand years, he said to Nerisa. And you, he said to Safar, have been a decent master, as masters go. Otherwise I wouldn't say a thing.

"If you both insist on making stupid human mistakes, why should I care? But I guess I do. So I'm saying, Shut up!"

"What mistakes? Nerisa asked.

"He thought you had a husband, he said to Nerisa. A demon husband."

"She thought you didn't want a little monster on your hands, much less a woman who would sleep with a demon."

"I don't have a husband, Nerisa said. Demon or otherwise. Palimak is a foundling. An orphan. Like me."

"And I don't care who you slept with, or didn't sleep with. Safar said. It's none of my business. As for me thinking Palimak is a monster because he's part demon, why nothing could be further from the truth.

"He's a child. I like children. Ask my mother. Ask my father."

"There, you see? Gundara said. Wasn't that easy?"

He hopped onto the bed, growing larger. He chucked Palimak under the chin. The child gurgled in pleasure.

"Why don't you leave him here with me? Gundara said. Go back to the bedroom and do whatever you think is necessary to apologize to each other."

The little Favorite paid no attention to the murmurs between the two lovers. Nor did he turn to watch them slip out of the room. His entire focus was on the child with the glowing yellow eyes.

"What a handsome little thing, he said. Eyes just like mine. Do you know how to talk yet?"

Palimak burbled and wriggled his little arms and legs.

"I guess not, Gundara said.

He made himself smaller and hopped onto the child's chest. He made funny toad faces and Palimak laughed, eyes glowing brighter.

"Do you know how to say, shut up? Gundara said. Go ahead. Try it. SayShut up. Shut up. Shuutt uuppp!"

And Palimak spoke his first words, Shut up!"

"That's my boy, Gundara said. Won't your mother be surprised in the morning?"

"Shut up, shut up! the baby cried, Shut up, shuuut uuppp!"

"It's my understanding, Kalasariz said, that Lord Timura and this Fatinah woman have been in each other's company for weeks."

"That is so, My Lord, Leiria said. She turned to Protarus. Lord Kalasariz understanding comes from my daily reports to him, Your Highness, she said. Reports you ordered, Sire."

Protarus smiled. I wanted to hear it from your own lips, Leiria, he said.

"Then you have heard it, Majesty, she said. Other than for the hours of the business day, Lord Timura and Lady Fatinah have not been apart since the night they met."

"Doesn't that trouble you, Leiria? Kalasariz asked. It was my impression that you and Lord Timura have been lovers for some years."

Leiria shrugged. It was my duty, she said. The king knows that."

Protarus chuckled. And an unlovely duty it was, he said to Kalasariz. My friend Safar may be Grand Wazier of Esmir, but he is not so grand in bed. Then, to Leiria, Isn't that true, my dear?"

"I have little experience with men, Majesty, she said. But you are such a lion, sire, I was spoiled for any other."

Protarus roared laughter. You see how it is? he said to Kalasariz. He wiped his eyes. When I bed a woman, she stays bedded, dammit! You should hear the weeping in my harem when I choose who is to enjoy my royal embrace and who must wait until another night."

Kalasariz grinned. All of Esmir knows of your prowess, Majesty, he said.

He regarded Leiria. The moment he'd first seen her cast adoring eyes on Safar he'd known he could make use of her one day. It was his fine fortune Safar had betrayed her, giving Leiria good reason to seek revenge. Otherwise, kingly orders or not, he wouldn't have trusted her reports about Safar's activities.

"I don't think we have any further need for you at this moment, Leiria, he said, dismissing her. You may report to me at the same time tomorrow."

Leiria touched hand to sword hilt and bowed in the military manner.

"Very good, My Lord, she said, and exited.

Protarus stared after her, thinking. Then he said, This Fatinah must be an amazing creature to have Safar so spellbound."

"She is quite beautiful, Majesty, Kalasariz said. I wouldn't mind giving her a tumble myself."

"I doubt if you'll have the opportunity, Protarus said. Lord Timura has asked me for permission to wed her."

Kalasariz eyebrows rose. Will you give it, Majesty?"

"I don't see how I can deny him, Protarus answered. It's a routine request my courtiers are required to make by law. I've never said no to anyone yet."

"But we know nothing about this woman, Majesty, Kalasariz said. This fact alone should make us be wary. My spies have sought information about her all over Esmir. To no avail. Apparently she just suddenly appeared one day. A rich noblewoman no one ever heard of before."

"And she has a child, Protarus said.

"Yes, but whose child is it, Majesty? That too is a mystery."

"I can't imagine any man wanting to wed a woman who was bred to another, the king said. Beautiful though she may be."

"My sentiments exactly, Majesty, Kalasariz said. Considering everything else, it tends to add to my suspicions."

"You think she is dangerous?"

"I know of no other woman like her in Esmir, Kalasariz said. Somehow she's made herself extremely rich. From all reports she becomes richer by the day through shrewd business dealings. She answered to no man, at least until she entered Lord Timura's life. And it's my guess she doesn't answer to him either."

"Do you think she advises him?"

"That would be a safe assumption, Majesty. She's certainly a strong willed woman. And ambitious."

Protarus stirred, rapping his rings against the throne.

Then, Yes, she would be, wouldn't she? She has my Grand Wazier in her thrall. What next?"

"Yes, Majesty, Kalasariz said. What next?"