Read Emissary for Free Online Page A

dry-witted and downright clever—aspects she had not once previously appreciated in the Vizier. And, damn him, he looked somehow different. Oh, it was Tariq all right, no-one could claim otherwise, but gone was the stooped carriage and all the vulgar adornments he so favoured, including jewels in his beard and on his sandals. A few moons back she couldn’t spot a single item that sparkled on his person, and his clothes were no longer ostentatious. All of a sudden he was wearing subtle colours and simple lines, more befitting a man of his appointment as Grand Vizier. Herezah could swear he now had a roving eye for women too, something that had never occurred to her before. Tariq had seemed almost sexless in the years gone by and she knew he lived alone, took no women casually and certainly had no long-time lovers. This much Zar Joreb had confirmed directly with her on one of their cosy nights together. But this new Tariq all but flirted with her, winked at some of the serving girls, and, in the rare company of the veiled members of the harem, gave them lingering appreciation.
    It was Tariq who was now seemingly closest to the Zar—him and the despised dwarf, of course; how could she overlook Pez? She realised Salmeowas watching her and drew herself back from those thoughts that irritated her so much.
    With her next words she knew she was not just aligning herself with Salmeo rather than Tariq, but also risking her fragile relationship with her son, the Zar. ‘And so now please explain this mystery to me as to how we use my son without his consent,’ she said. ‘But first, I need a fresh brew of my tea. Would you organise it, please, whilst I change out of my silk robe.’
    Salmeo gave instructions to a eunuch servant and Herezah disappeared into her sleeping chamber, which led into her dressing-rooms. She emerged at the same time as Salmeo was dismissing the servant who had laid out fresh crockery.
    ‘You look very lovely, Valide,’ the chief eunuch commented.
    She nodded, not really needing to be told this. She knew how splendid she appeared today. There was work to do and she needed to be at her dazzling best.
    ‘May I pour for you?’ he added.
    ‘Please,’ she replied, settling herself by the window. As she stared out into the gardens she contemplated, not for the first time, how often she stared at garden or sea, as all in the palace did, with inextinguishable longing to be elsewhere.
    ‘We’re all prisoners of this beautiful place,’ she said, speaking her thoughts aloud.
    ‘Privileged prisoners, Valide,’ Salmeo commented from behind as the steaming citrus brew swallowed up a slice of lime that he had slid into it. He lightly stepped towards Herezah and delicately handed her the tall, exquisite cup that stood on an equally beautiful saucer. It was her own design, commissioned by Joreb when she was pronounced wife and Absolute Favourite. Its colours were bold and daring, reflecting Herezah’s personality, Joreb had told her.
    She sipped, making a soft sound of pleasure at the warmth. ‘All servants dismissed?’ she checked.
    ‘We are alone, Valide.’
    ‘Then I am all ears, Grand Master Eunuch. Tell me your cunning plan.’

4
    The man, hunched like a sack of grain in the chair, stared intently out to sea. Hair, once black as the famous velvet from Shagaire, now curiously golden, blew across his face, unnoticed.
    The wind was refreshing rather than cold, for summer had begun to lay its new warmth over the land. Nevertheless the man’s bones seemed to rattle from a constant shivering that had nothing to do with any chill. The goat-hair blanket hung loosely from his hollow frame, ignored and as unwanted by this wearer as any other form of comfort that tried its healing qualities but failed. This one wanted to suffer, for in suffering there was life.
    The day itself had been sublime, its brightness almost painful on the eyes, but the man’s gaze was distracted neither by the sparkle of the first