CHAPTER FIFTEEN—BODYGUARD
“I am going to go to the throne chamber,” Shiro said.
“What?” Ali asked. “Why?”
“To get a better idea of the palace,” Shiro said. “We may need to know where the throne chamber is.”
“Hmm,” Ali nosed. Then with a shrug he said, “I suppose you are right.”
Razul threw himself back on the bed. “Why could I not have been the bodyguard?”
“Get off the bed!” Ali commanded. “Her ladyship will smell your stink and know you’ve been rolling around there.”
“But I am the bed servant,” Razul said. “This is my job.”
“Do not be such a fool, man.”
Razul got off the bed and sauntered over to Shiro and Ali who were standing in front of the window. The chamber was well lit with candles and lamps throughout, but Ali moved and started dimming some of them.
“What are you doing?” Shiro asked.
“We have to keep a lookout for Dabaku. He could arrive at any moment.”
He was right, so Shiro said nothing more. Less light in the chamber would make it easier to see out into the gardens, even if they were brightly lit. If Debaku arrived in the next few moments, they would still need to reconnoiter the palace to get a good idea of the palace structure.
Otherwise, we will be sneaking about aimlessly.
Leaving Ali and Razul behind, Shiro closed the bed chamber doors behind him. He glanced about the corridors. They were quiet, but up ahead a well-dressed man strode away with a woman at his side.
Surely they were going to the throne chamber?
Would the banquet be held there, or would there be halls specifically for dining during this event?
Shiro made his way through the corridor, turned and passed a pair of guards holding long pikes. They were turbaned and wore thick jackets.
Palace guards, he thought. But not the Scorpion Guard.
So far, the Scorpion Guard had been out of sight. Surely they were patrolling the palace deeper in where fewer guests would be treading.
He went down a flight of stairs, his feet quiet atop the runner. From the apartments, it wasn’t an overly long walk to the throne chambers.
When he came into the halls where the entry doors were situated, he glanced left out the massive corridor leading to the arch and main entrance. There were guards and guests in the halls, many of which were loitering with wine in their hands and having a good time under the brightly lit space. Above a massive chandelier cast a pallid yellow light over them with warm tones of orange.
The throne chamber was clearly busy, and outside the chamber were several dozen men, strong and well dressed with a somewhat military air about them.
The other bodyguards.
Shiro nodded to a few, who looked at him with a mixture of belonging and suspicion. All of them were liveried in different colors as befitted their patrons from across the empire.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Hey,” one of them said, a strong, dark-skinned man with short hair and a short beard covering only his chin. “What is wrong with your eyes?”
Shiro looked at him, not knowing what to say at the outset, but then the word, “Magic,” came out of his lips.
The guard glanced at him up and down.
“You don’t look like any sorcerer.”
Smiling, Shiro said, “Then they won’t see me coming.”
“Ha!” the man laughed. “Right you are. And who is your charge?”
“I can’t tell you that,” Shiro said.
The other bodyguard looked at him askance.
“Gods,” another complained. He was with a small group of his fellows, dressed in a burnished red with black sashes. “I am so bored.”
“The woes of a bodyguard,” another said. “Boredom, until you have to move so fast you have no time to think.”
They looked at each other and nodded with understanding.
“I’m not here to stay,’” Shiro said as he glanced into the packed throne chamber. At the end, he could see a raised dais with steps where the big throne and the little throne sat. Behind them were a set of steps and massive pillars with raised braziers. Flames licked in and out of them as the music players and drummers were hard at work.
Behind the pillars and the throne, diaphanous white curtains fluttered in the cooling night breeze. As the curtains moved about, swatches of the night could be seen where the moon shone into the throne chamber, but there was too much light inside for the pale natural light to make any presence know.
Shiro turned and strode back up the flight of steps and made his way in the direction of the apartments, the music of the ongoing party faded behind him.
Now that I have the layout of the apartments and the way to the throne chamber, I need to continue scouting.
And so he did, taking another corridor which led him to another section of apartments. He carried on until he came out into a roofless area with pools of water, lit bright from glow stones underneath and torches providing more light overhead.
There were guests out in this area.
After a moment, Shiro realized the pools were heated and that some of the guests were swimming, carrying their drinks into the water, laughing and talking.
Below he could see the columned portico behind the throne chamber across the courtyard. From there, the view of naked women splashing in the pools must have been a heady sight.
One Shiro was shocked to see as his eyes widened.
You pervert.
He hadn’t called himself that. He knew it was Jessamine who would have uttered those words, completely out of necessity to annoy him.
I will find you, Jessamine.
“Bothersome Jinni.”
Glancing about, he quested, searching for any trace of her aura. He felt nothing, but knew his ability to sense the auras of others had only just manifested itself.
How or why, he didn’t know.
“Ah,” a voice said heartily. “What are you doing so clothed, friend? And what part of the empire do you hail from?”
Shiro looked at the fat, bearded man. For his dress, he only wore a towel wrapped around his waist and a turban on his head. “Forgive me,” he said. “I am only a bodyguard to my lady who is a guest at this… magnificent banquet of the sultan’s.”
“Ah, hahaha! Then show me where your lady is so that I might introduce myself!” He leaned over, wine spilling out of his glass.
The banquet has only just begun and already they inebriate themselves while taking off their clothes.
Shiro wondered how wild this party would get before the night was out—and how wild it would become with each passing day.
A strong palace servant—or perhaps he was a slave, walked across the pool yard dressed in nothing but his breechclout. His magnificent muscles stood out to the admiration of the women, and jealously of most of the men as he carried a basket of hot rocks. Bending, he tumbled them into the pool where they hissed in the water.
A woman cried out in delight as the water bubbled and boiled a few feet from her location.
Shiro turned to the fat man. “Then wait here, my lord,” he said with a bow. “I will inform her that you wish to meet.”
“Ekshellent!” the man said, swaying slightly.
Shiro did not glance toward the pool where a large splash erupted, followed by laughter and applause. Glancing up at the main dome of the palace, he turned and made his way back into the corridors to continue his reconnaissance.
And then an idea hit him. “My lord, what should happen if I lose track of you in the…”—what was he supposed to call it?—“…the frolicking?”
“Uh,” the man noised. Then he proceeded to scratch his head as he glanced at Shiro with a dumb look. “Might I escort you to my lady?” He bowed. “It may be a wiser course, my lord.”
“Oh!” the man said with a happy smile lighting up his face. “Of course!”
“Then let us go this way.” Shiro gestured in his desired direction and the man waddled along with him.
Perfect, Shiro thought. If I am caught by the guards, the excuse will be on this rich and powerful fool, leaving me free of reprimand or suspicion.
Smiling, and supporting the weight of the gluttonous drunkard over his shoulder, Shiro proceeded forward, leaving the other party goers to debauch themselves in the steaming pools overlooking the courtyard and the throne chamber.