Goddess (26 page)

‘Queen Angeline,’ she said towards the shadows. ‘Won’t you please step aboard our royal barge? As you can see, I am alone but for the company of
Grand Master Salmeo, who is the head of our harem.’

She waited, saw the movement at the back of the second barge as a figure stood. Herezah held her breath. This woman was neither frumpy nor stocky. The tall, straight-backed, square-shouldered Queen of Galinsea finally emerged and the Crown Valide found herself swallowing softly, her throat dry, as someone who surely was the epitome of royalty glided towards the front of the barge.

The woman wore an umcomplicated robe, almost sheath-like in its airy, lightly woven texture. No silks or rich colours for her. She was a picture of simple elegance in the palest of silver grey, which matched her once golden, now softly silvered hair. As she drew closer Herezah could see the gown also matched her intensely light eyes that were so grey they were startling. Lazar had indeed inherited his famous light-coloured eyes from his mother. In fact, the startling likeness that this woman had to Lazar took Herezah’s breath away. The set of their mouths, that penetrating gaze, the very stature of this woman screamed that she had birthed Prince Lucien of Galinsea. It was hard to age her. Perhaps heading into her seventh decade if Herezah was harsh—but looking at the woman’s hands and relatively unlined face, she was more likely in the early summers of her sixth decade.

Herezah tore her gaze from the beautiful woman and forced herself, against all her inclinations, to
bow with every ounce of grace she could muster from all those years of training. ‘Queen Angeline,’ she said, as smoothly as she could in the little Galinsean she knew, ‘you are most humbly welcomed.’

‘Thank you, Crown Valide. But let us speak Percherese—you may find it more comfortable.’

Herezah felt her stomach clench. Was that condescension? She straightened, looked the queen directly in her light eyes, noticing at the same time that Angeline had not so much as dipped a head to her. The Galinsean did not see Herezah as even close to her equal. Herezah’s unease deepened. Was that a disdainful look the queen was giving her? She switched from her halting, quaint Galinsean to Percherese. ‘Of course, thank you. I was not sure whether you were familiar with our language, Queen Angeline.’

Herezah saw the faintest of smiles touch the queen’s lips. ‘Did Lucien not mention that Galinsean royalty knows all of its neighbours’ languages? And call me Majesty, it’s easier, isn’t it?’

Herezah had to look briefly away for fear of revealing the fury that was rising swiftly through her. Such arrogance! It was very easy to see whose mother this was. ‘Er, Salmeo, perhaps you could aid our royal guest?’ she suggested, for want of something to say that diverted her from the queen’s question.

Angeline replied directly to Salmeo. ‘That’s all
right, eunuch. My companion here will assist. Luto?’

The man dipped a short bow before offering a thickly muscled arm to his queen, helping her with care to step across the small bridge onto the royal barge. Herezah watched Salmeo bow graciously as the Galinsean royal boarded, inwardly seething that he did so without any of the usual struggle.

‘Perhaps you’d care to join me under the awning, Majesty? We’ve set up some chairs and your servant can stand in the shade over there?’

The queen nodded. ‘Luto will stand in the shade, but beside us, if that is no problem for you?’

Herezah held the steely gaze momentarily before glancing at the stocky Luto and acquiescing. ‘Of course. Whatever pleases you.’ She watched the man show his queen to one of the chairs before moving back just a few steps to stand, his arms crossed, beside her. ‘You certainly remind me of our Spur, Majesty. I can see from where he gets his handsome looks.’

Angeline considered her with a mild, almost disintersted gaze, ignoring the compliment. ‘I have received word that my son is not in Percheron. And the only thing that assures me that this is no ruse is that I received that information in a letter written in his own hand.’

Herezah was shocked by the confrontational nature of the queen’s enquiry. ‘Majesty, it is no ruse. Your son, Lucien—Lazar as he is known to
the Percherese—has accompanied my son, Zar Boaz, into the desert to find Zaradine Ana. Lazar alone knew how to find the rebels or he would be here now.’

At this the queen smiled genuinely but without warmth. ‘I doubt it. Lucien, it seems, will go to any length to avoid his mother. I know you Percherese think the Galinsean race is barbaric, not especially kind to women. You’d be surprised how much power we wield in our own homes.’

Herezah wasn’t sure how to respond. She had no desire to get involved in any Galinsean royal family squabble nor did she understand what had happened to divide mother and son. But she had to remain focused on Boaz’s desires for Percheron. ‘I can see that by the fact that King Falza is comfortable to send you in his stead. He obviously respects you enormously, Queen Angeline. The main point, Majesty, is that your son is alive and he is well. I can assure you of this and your own dignitaries would have done the same, I trust. He suffered a small setback when he was trying to cross the desert to Romea, of course—’

‘Yes, I heard he was leading your emissary’s party to Galinsea. We are quite intrigued to meet this young woman who seems to have everyone in a stir, including your son.’

It was as if Angeline knew all of her personal weaknesses. Herezah reined in her displeasure. ‘She is a remarkable person, yes. Very beautiful,
immensely intelligent too.’ If only Ana could hear her!

‘A rare combination, as you and I would both know,’ the queen replied and Herezah accepted the compliment even though it was said almost disdainfully.

‘Indeed, Majesty. Ana has certainly captivated the Zar.’

‘And has she won the stone heart of my son, or am I imagining things?’

Herezah caught her breath. ‘Queen Angeline, what could you mean by that?’

‘I don’t speak in riddles, Crown Valide, I always say what I mean. And I know my Percherese is fluent enough. Let me say it like this: is my son in love with this girl?’

Herezah was momentarily speechless. She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it.

‘Ah, my question is too direct, then? I wonder why it should offend?’

‘No, er, Majesty, I’m not offended—more astonished that you would ask such a thing. This young woman is, after all, a Zaradine. My son’s wife. My son’s Absolute Favourite. To covet a Zar’s wife, let alone the Zaradine, is treachery.’ Herezah spoke Ana’s title with as much weight as she could.

‘That’s meaningless to me, Crown Valide—we are but ignorant Galinseans.’ Angeline’s last two words were loaded with irony. ‘I can’t imagine why
my son, who has not only snubbed his right to the Galinsean throne but has steadfastly ignored his realm, and furthermore allowed us to believe him lost to us for almost two decades, would suddenly rush across the desert to reach Romea.’

Herezah’s tone was icy. ‘He put Percheron before any personal prejudice, I imagine, Majesty.’

‘And does that not sound stupid to your own ears, Crown Valide?’ the silver-haired queen demanded.

Herezah actually gasped, stung by the woman’s words. ‘Stupid? No, I do not consider him stupid, Majesty. I consider him only truthful. The fact that your Crown Prince chose Percheron as his realm over his own is something you should take up with him, not his adopted people. Here he has found only respect and affection. Lazar is revered by those who know him. He is loved.’

‘Yes, indeed. That’s my very point, Crown Valide,’ the queen replied, entirely unmoved by Herezah’s admonishment. ‘My question is about love. Does he love this girl?’

This time the breath caught in her throat but Herezah fought the choking sensation and forced out an answer. ‘No, Queen Angeline, I do not believe so,’ she lied, wishing she could have faith in her words.

‘Let me assure you that Lucien’s veins may run with Galinsean blood, but his soul is Merlinean. And we Merlineans never forgive. Never. He would not have travelled towards Romea on any
account, even for his adopted Percheron, I’d wager, unless this girl is very,
very
special. Lucien the young man was vulnerable through his heart. I have no reason to believe as an older man he would be any different.’

Herezah had managed to recover sufficiently to answer with a firm tone. ‘To be honest, I have never seen any evidence in the near two decades I’ve known your son that he is vulnerable to anything or anyone. Lazar has no partners to my knowledge. He belongs to no-one. He is an island. As for Ana, well, Ana is certainly special to the Percherese Crown, Majesty. She carries my grandson, heir to the throne of Percheron. Lazar knew what was at stake for all of us and I believe he felt some guilt, you might say, for being the cause of potential trouble between our realms. And he alone knew how to get us to Romea the fastest way across the desert.’

‘Us?’ the queen asked, seemingly discarding Herezah’s impassioned speech.

‘I was on that journey, Majesty. I was set upon by the impostor that our two sons now hunt. I am a mother to a king,’ she said, deliberately stripping her voice of any rancour. ‘And you are the mother to a king-in-waiting, whether or not he renounces his throne. Your son is royal. We are both creatures of the same cloth—although we wear it differently.’

Angeline actually laughed. ‘Golesh!’ she said and, at Herezah’s frown, she translated. ‘It means
congratulations, Crown Valide, or, more to the matter, that you have scored your point. It is a compliment I give you although, royal sons or not, you are not a queen but, more accurately, a king’s mother.’

Herezah took a moment to calm her fury but refused to be baited. Either this woman was deliberately trying to provoke her or Angeline was simply too impressed with her own power, her own status, to care how she sounded or whom she offended. Herezah glanced towards Salmeo and nodded. ‘Can I offer you a cool drink, Majesty? I have our finest sweet wine on board.’

‘That would be acceptable,’ the queen replied, nodding once.

‘Thank you, Salmeo,’ Herezah uttered softly through near gritted teeth.

‘And so,’ Queen Angeline began, ‘my son is in good health, you say?’

‘As I began to explain, he suffered after the desert trip. An old illness brought about by a poisoning attempt he suffered.’

The woman’s eyebrows arched. ‘And I understood from Lucien’s friend, Jumo, that this threat likely came from within the palace.’

‘The man who confessed was duly executed hours after he admitted to the attempt on Lazar’s life. Fortunately, your son is strong, both mentally and physically. And with good care he returned to health. Unfortunately, the debilitating poison remains in his body, and can still affect him. His
exertions in the desert made him weak. But we have nursed him back to good health and I am confident he will remain well.’

‘And so I hear he chose to save you over the Zaradine. Is that not odd?’

‘Why, Majesty?’

‘Well, she is the Zar’s wife. She carries his heir. Presumably, she is more important than a mere Valide.’

They had been making small headway but now Herezah openly bristled. ‘I’m not sure you fully comprehend how the Percherese hierarchy works, Majesty. The Zar takes many wives—dozens, if he chooses to—but he has only one Valide. She is precious for her singularity.’ Herezah worked hard to keep the smugness from her face.

‘And how many wives does your son have, Valide?’

It was not lost on Herezah that the queen had just dropped the royal part of her title. She fumed inwardly, though outwardly she held herself upright and kept her expression neutral. Joreb’s voice rang in her mind urging her to remain steady, to not allow her personal feelings to sway her ability to broker a peace. Her voice was mercifully calm when it came. ‘One.’

‘Just the one?’ The queen shrugged. ‘So, in fact, Zaradine Ana had no rival and thus holds equal importance to the mother of the Zar, both of you being singular in your respective roles.’

Herezah blinked slowly. ‘I suppose you could view it that way.’

‘And the fact that she carries an heir—the next Zar—in her belly possibly gives her just a little more importance, a little more weight to her status?’

‘I don’t—’

The queen made a noise of disdain as if she tired of the point. ‘It is irrelevant anyway, Valide. Lucien chose to save you for his own reasons and you have nursed him back to health and now he’s making amends for saving you over the Zaradine and is out in the Empty somewhere hunting down the impostor.’

‘That is right, Majesty.’

The queen shrugged lightly again. ‘Then we are on the same side. I cannot condone the behaviour of this Arafanz simply because Galinsea and Percheron have a traditional enmity. The fact is we are both royal families and we cannot let some upstart renegade threaten either realm. In this we must stand side by side, shoulder to shoulder. If we can help with his destruction we will.’

Herezah felt her churning insides go still with relief. This offer of working together was a turning point in their realms’ long and bitter history. Her hopes soared. She even gave a tentative smile. ‘Our thoughts precisely, Majesty. I trust you’ll forgive that your son is not here to present himself to you, to prove that he remains in Percheron of his own free will. I don’t want
you to think that the Crown of Percheron ordered his death. Far from it. Zar Boaz loves Lazar as a brother.’

‘Where is Jumo?’

‘He is dead, Majesty. He died in the desert.’

‘Ah, pity. It never sat comfortably with me that we feigned an inability to speak Percherese. We made it very difficult for him to make himself understood. It bought us time, however, to send our emissaries to find out just what had happened in Percheron.’

‘Yes, Masters Lorto and Belzo.’

‘Indeed. Neither actually spoke much Percherese, as I’m sure you discovered. What Jumo never did explain, however, was why my son was being flogged at the behest of the Zar, whom you claim considers himself a brother to Lucien.’

Herezah felt the snakes inside her stomach stir again. She didn’t want to have to explain to the queen that once again Lazar’s decision was connected to Ana. Her mind raced as to what else she might say but she knew she was ensnared in her own trap—she could not risk dishonesty at this delicate stage. She took a moment to gather herself as Salmeo unobtrusively placed two golden goblets, dripping with the icy water that had been used to chill the wine, beside them. He withdrew silently, with just a waft of violets to remind Herezah he was even present.