Free Goddess by Fiona McIntosh Page B

done my way or not at all.’
    ‘All right, son. As you command.’
    ‘And Pez is to have private access to Lazar at all times.’
    ‘You know that’s ridiculous,’ Herezah replied, a petulant note creeping into her otherwise respectful tone.
    Boaz took a breath that was clearly meant to signify soft irritation at the old argument. ‘Pez made a difference when I was grieving, Mother. It’s hard to explain why or how. But he is someone who transcends the ordinary conversation; sometimes just his presence can have a positive effect on those who like him. I can’t expect you or Salmeo or even Tariq to understand this but Lazar does. This is another of my commands. Pez has access everywhere in the palace. Lazar’s sick room is no exception.’
    The Valide did not take her grievance further although it was obvious from her dark expressionthat she was furious. ‘He must learn to be quiet whilst the Spur rests.’
    Boaz nodded. ‘I shall get you all that you need—’
    Lazar heard no more, could feel himself already slipping towards a familiar abyss. He didn’t want to be in the palace but he also didn’t want to die—not yet, not with the unfinished business with Arafanz of the Razaqin. And so with a soft sigh of regret he gave in to the ride down the slippery slope of half consciousness into the feverish state he remembered all too well. He knew it would be several moons at least before he spoke to these people again with any clarity.

6
    Ever since the night that Arafanz had told her of his connection to Ellyana, Ana had felt a lessening of the strict rules that governed her care. She had been moved to a different chamber in the fortress, one that was closer to the suite of rooms that Arafanz inhabited. And she noticed a single guard now took care of her immediate needs whereas previously she had ignored her gaolers, constantly rotated. As his face had become familiar to her she tried to be friendly.
    ‘Thank you,’ she said, as the man, no more than eighteen summers, replenished her water jug and the tiny basin that served for cleaning herself.
    He nodded but didn’t smile.
    ‘I wonder if I might be permitted to take a walk today?’ she asked in the ancient tongue that Arafanz used with his men. She didn’t expect an answer, just the usual dark-eyed stare. It was simply something to say.
    ‘I shall ask for you,’ he surprised her by murmuring before turning to leave.
    ‘Oh, wait, please,’ she begged, leaping up from the cot on which she had been sitting. ‘Pleasedon’t go. I’m grateful for this chance to talk with someone.’
    ‘We are allowed to speak freely with you now that our leader is returned, Miss Ana,’ the man replied shyly.
    ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I know names are not used here but am I permitted to know yours?’
    ‘I was known once as Ashar. I have no name here—he names only a few.’
    ‘Do you speak only Sharaic?’
    ‘We all learn it. It’s the language of the fortress. It is what we speak, yes.’
    He had not answered the question. Perhaps Arafanz has taught his men to be evasive as well, she thought. ‘But that would take years, Ashar.’
    ‘I have been here many years, Miss Ana,’ he said and she understood that was all he would say about it.
    She nodded her head in thanks, not wishing to damage this fragile bond by being overly inquisitive. ‘I look forward to hearing about my walk.’
    She didn’t expect to hear that day but Ashar returned swiftly with the news that Arafanz would be accompanying her.
    ‘Oh no, I didn’t mean—’
    ‘He wishes to take you somewhere, Miss Ana,’ Ashar said gently, cutting across her protestation. ‘You are to wear full robes of the desert,’ he added, handing her fresh garments before departing.
    She was fetched not long afterward. Ashar led her through various corridors and down stairs, emerging at ground level for the first time. Again she blinked beneath the vicious sun even though it was barely near the middle of the