Despina removed the lid from the tureen and began to prepare the tea, placing a sparkling crystal of rock sugar in the bottom of a small etched-glass cup.
As she sat on the cushions, Shahrzad reached for a piece of lavash.
The handmaiden peered through her eyelashes at Shahrzad while she poured the tea in a slender stream from high above the glass. “I meant what I said; I do hope you succeed, my lady.” Her tone was filled with quiet circumspection.
“Please call me Shahrzad.”
“Shahrzad.” Despina grinned at her.
Shahrzad could not prevent herself from returning the gesture.
Be very careful.
• • •
An hour later, with Despina’s help, Shahrzad had bathed and dressed in another elaborate ensemble of silk and damask. A slim circlet of silver, spangled with pearls and tiny blue sapphires, adorned her brow. Around her neck was another fetter, made to match. Thin diamond bangles clinked together on her left wrist with every movement.
“Am I allowed to leave?” she asked, once Despina had put the final flourish on the kohl lining her eyelids.
Despina nodded. “You can roam most of the palace, as long as you’re with the Rajput.”
“The Rajput?”
The corners of Despina’s eyes crinkled with a mixture of dry humor and pity. “The caliph is apparently so enamored, he has gifted you a member of his personal bodyguard.”
Shahrzad balled her hands into fists. “So I necessitate a spy and a ready executioner?”
“More or less.”
Hate is not the right word for such a man.
“Who is the Rajput?” Shahrzad spat.
“At one point, he was known as the Scourge of Hindustan. He’s the best swordsman in Rey, perhaps in all of Khorasan. A devotee of the talwar. There’s only one other swordsman in Rey who comes close, but even he has never bested the Rajput.”
Well, this information might be beneficial in the future.
“Who is the second-best swordsman in Rey?”
Despina’s brow furrowed. “I expected better of you.”
“What?”
“I thought you would make it a point to be informed.”
“Forgive me for neglecting to carry around a list of the ten best swordsmen in Khorasan,” Shahrzad shot back.
“I suppose this information wouldn’t be readily available to a young girl with a librarian for a father. It isn’t exactly posted on walls for public viewing.”
“My father is a curator of ancient texts and the smartest man I know. He was a vizier for the former caliph.” Shahrzad cut her eyes.
“And after his wife’s death, I heard he lost his mind and was subsequently demoted. Now he’s a librarian.”
I can’t lose my temper. She’s clearly trying to bait me. But why?
Shahrzad replied instead with a measured silence intended to reestablish control. She fiddled with the heavy silver at her throat, despising its weight.
“So, do you still want to know who the second-best swordsman in Rey is?” Despina asked, changing tack.
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
Despina smiled knowingly. “The second-best swordsman in Rey is Khalid Ibn al-Rashid. Our illustrious King of Kings.”
Shahrzad’s heart sank. Gifted swordsmen tended to be stalwart strategists. Quick to spot signs of subterfuge.
And this presented yet another obstacle. If he ever suspected her of treachery, it would be even more difficult to plot his death and catch him unawares.
She swallowed carefully. “Again, it doesn’t matter.”
“I guess it shouldn’t matter to you. But I thought you might want to know, nevertheless.”
What kind of game is she playing?
“You thought wrong.” Shahrzad walked to the doors of the chamber and tugged on the handles. As soon as she crossed the threshold, a hulking figure stepped into view. His skin was the color of burnished copper, and he towered over Shahrzad, with his head bound in an intricately wrapped turban. His exposed arms were thick with corded muscle, and his black beard was neatly trimmed to a point just below his chin. Eyes the color of a moonless night gleamed down at her, stark and merciless.
“Uh, yes. You must be . . . I’m sorry, what is your name?” Shahrzad stammered.
“I told you; he’s the Rajput,” Despina replied from behind her.
“But he must have a name,” Shahrzad rasped over her shoulder.
“If he does, I don’t know it.”
With an irritated sigh, Shahrzad faced forward and braved the sight of her potential executioner once more.
“I’m Shahrzad.” She met his black gaze.
He glowered at her before moving aside to let her pass.
As she slipped by him, she noticed the long talwar sword hanging from his hip, shining with menace in the midday sun.
So this silent brute is the only swordsman who can best my enemy . . .
How am I to find any weakness in Khalid Ibn al-Rashid with his spies all around me, watching my every move?
She exhaled protractedly.
I might have a serious problem.
DRAW WEIGHT
THE ORIGINAL STRUCTURE OF THE PALACE HAD BEEN built nearly three hundred years ago, by a king with a flair for extravagance. In the years since, many wings had been added to augment the base of marble and limestone. They branched off like tributaries, winding toward an unseen destination far in the distance.
It would be easy to get lost in such a place.
“How do I get to the courtyards?” Shahrzad asked Despina, after they had wandered the shining halls for half an hour.