CHAPTER SIXTEEN—THE LAST PIECE

With all of the necessary concoctions made, Darius said, “Let’s not waste any time. Let us begin the ritual.”

“No!” the lead sorcerer hissed. He still had the visage of an old man, but Darius thought he saw a red glint in his eyes. “Theeerrre issss one piecccee more.”

Darius looked at him, feeling impatient, but what was he to do?

“Then tell me what it is so I can provide it.”

“Ahhh saaacrifiiiice.”

“An animal?”

“Nooo.”

“A human?”

Nodding, his eyes definitely had a reddish glint in them. Darius was no stranger to killing. At times, he had killed his own servants and slaves in fits of rage. “Very well,” he said. “Hahkari.”

“My sultan?”

He didn’t turn to look his high vizier in the eyes. “Bring me one of the slaves.”

“No!” the sorcerer hissed. “Nooo slaves.”

“Why will a slave not do?” he asked, feeling annoyed. He was starting to wonder if they wanted to make this difficult as part of their design to subtly enact a revenge against him.

“The blooood,” he hissed. “Muuust be freee!”

Growling, Darius said, “Very well.” He thought for a moment on who he might have executed. No one came to mind.

He did not have time for this indecision.

But then one person did come to him. She had been a particular disappointment to him—not doing as he commanded. Not because she was rebellious, but because she was far too weak.

Perhaps he should not have had her taken from her home. She was unprepared to be one of his concubines and to live within the harem. His other women did nothing to make the situation better.

Darius was also disappointed with them.

Perhaps he should punish them all, he thought. But there would be time for that later. For now, she would do—for this ritual.

“Bring me Arisa.”

There was a moment before his high vizier replied. “My lord,” he said, a note of confusion in his tone. “Do you mean Arisa from your harem?”

“Yes!” he snapped. “Do you lack the ability to hear me clearly? I said bring her here, you fool.”

Hahkari bowed. “As you wish.”

The harem, if not a harem, would have been a beautiful place. It was situated in a deep courtyard. In the grounds there were fountains and green grasses. Trees provided shade on hot days, and the clean water could be used to splash oneself.

But now, in the evening, the courtyards and the apartment windows were adorned with bright lamps and torches, though most of them were doused at this time of early sunset.

Also in the courtyard were porticos housing luxurious tents furnished with the most exquisite carpets, cushions and beds.

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The concubines didn’t live here, but they could if they wanted, and often they did sleep out in the tents. But their rooms were officially within the apartments overlooking the courtyard.

They could go anywhere they wished within the courtyard or the apartments, but they did not have permission by the sultan to leave the secluded harem quarters.

Altogether, there were sixty-seven concubines, each one more beautiful than the next. Some of the girls were taken away from the palace after they began to age. If they had pleased the sultan, he furnished them with places to live, as well as giving them their freedom to go about their lives however they wished, but only after he had taken all the pleasure he wanted from them.

Some of the girls had not pleased in in the past. Those women still lived here in the apartments. They were informally referred to as the Ones of Displeasure. They often became the servants of the younger women.

Kalina, the head servant, was with the women now. She often spent time with them when she was free. Perhaps it was out of a sense of guilt, or was it that she was simply hiding from the sultan’s awareness after his tantrums?

Had he killed her, it would not have been the first time he did such a thing.

How did I trip like that with the wine?

So stupid.

She was still shaking from the incident whenever she thought about it. It wasn’t every day Darius al Hassarani became furious, though his ire was easily conjured.

Gods, she thought. She needed to get away from the palace. But how does one ask to leave? She did not belong here. She was not a slave. In fact, she was paid quite well.

The girls were sleeping now, so Kalina had time to herself. They always slept during the early evening hours so, if called upon by the sultan, they had their strength to give him in the later hours of the night.

Kalina had some errands to do, so she should leave, exit the palace and—

“Kalina.”

She turned and met the stare of Hahkari, the sultan’s sycophant.

“Yes?” she asked. “What is it, lord Hahkari?”

He had a long nose and deep-set eyes. His look was one of mischief and lust. Kalina did not like him. The low light right now in the gardens made his eyes look darker—demonic, even.

“The sultan wishes to be met with one of his concubines. He specifically asked for Arisa.”

“Arisa?”

Was that true? He had seemed so dissatisfied with her of late. In fact, so dissatisfied that he had been drawn into one of his angry fits.

The poor girl had tried so hard her eyes were swollen for days afterward by the tears she had shed.

Kalina swallowed. “At this hour?” she asked. “The sultan never requests his concubines at this time of evening. And I thought he had guests? Those”—she wanted to say something distasteful about them, but quelled that urge with a shiver —“those Hajja sorcerers?”

“Yes, well,” Hahkari said in way of an obvious excuse, “we do not question the sultan’s wants and needs, now do we, Kalina? Fetch the girl.”

She nodded and trailed off toward the tent where the girl was sleeping. The inner courtyard was a place the sultan never visited. Even though he rarely came to the apartments, this place was the inner sanctum, safe from him.

Often times, he would forget which girl he wanted. If they stayed out of his sight, they could hide, sometimes not being called on for weeks or even months.

That was an advantage for the girls inside the sultan’s large harem. Approaching Arisa’s tent, Kalina felt a deep guilt. There were other girls inside, sleeping soundly for their late afternoon nap during the part of the day that began to cool off.

Kalina stepped between the girls, and taking Arisa’s arms, she lightly shook the girl. “Arisa? Arisa, it is time to wake.”

The girl opened her eyes drowsily.

This would not do, she thought. She needed to be awake. She needed to be beautiful. “The sultan requests you.”

A look of horror passed through the girl’s eyes—that stare filling Kalina with sorrow. She wanted to let tears run freely down her face, but for Arisa, she had to be strong, had to give her encouragement.

The sultan would soon tire of her, she had told the girl. But so far, he had not.

“Come, come,” she beckoned the girl as they walked through the gardens. “We must take you to Larrisi so she can make you beautiful.”

“That…” Hahkari said, “will not be necessary today, Kalina. Thank you for bringing me the girl. I will take her to the sultan myself.”

Kalina took pause.

It was very unusual, this behavior. She felt…. What did she feel?

Suspicious.

With a nod, she said, “Then we better not keep the sultan waiting.”

Arisa said nothing. Resigned to her fate of the night, she gave Kalina a quick glance and trailed off with Hahkari with his hand around her upper arm.

Kalina watched them go and swallowed, knowing something was amiss. She did not want to get in trouble, but she couldn’t stop herself from quietly following from a distance.

As the head servant, she had almost free reign of the palace. From the sultan’s room to the chamber where he kept the lamp—but not inside the vault—she had free access.

Kalina would find out what was going on. If only for Arisa’s sake—the poor girl.