Hearts in Zenith (Four Husbands and a Lover)

46. Far to the South

I genuflected before the Queen's throne, feeling naked, since my helmet was off and I surrendered my ax to the guards. My reflection in the blackstone of the floor also knelt, because it was polished to mirror-like perfection. Unlike mirrors that showed true colors of the Knowable World, the blackstone made everything look like a shadow in the night. She was my alter-ego, the darkest part of Ismar. She was Ishmara.

Damn floor! Maybe for the courtiers its hard, cold surface was welcomed in the desert, but for a woman obliged to stay on one knee after a week in the saddle... not so good. This torment was far from over too, since the Queen's Herald was merely half-way through Her Majesty's titles.

I forced myself to the stillness of a statue when all I wanted was to scream at the droning woman. My orders were to muster the company, take ships across the Celestial Sea, then ride like the Bhutas chased us. Then present myself to Her Majesty, Queen Makeda, immediately. Which I did—and here I was, listening to the names of the cities belonging to the Crown of Bhar unveiled with a merciless pedantry.

Why rush indeed?

My only consolation was that not only I looked, I also smelled the part of a woman who had obeyed her orders to the letter. Every person in attendance in this sumptuous palace was wrinkling their nose. The courtiers were astoundingly beautiful people and had been for generations if the frescoes covering every square inch of the walls didn't lie. And their pretty faces froze into smiling masks the longer I knelt in their midst. Honestly, a few more minutes and there would be no difference between the women and the images tinted with the green patina of antiquity.

So, I returned my attention to Queen Makeda.

No patina of age on this woman, though she appeared older than me. I did a double take. Ten years maybe? Approaching forty? It was hard to tell. Breeding and pampering erased the difference from the elongated face with high cheekbones, made longer by the slim bands encasing her neck and chest. Most of them were of gold, but copper and silver weaved in, breaking the monotony of yellow shine. One copper hoop was so ancient, it turned green. Only the wealthiest women could afford this pretend disregard to the cost of their adornments. Or, perhaps, the value was in the antiquity of this jewelry. Thick layer of prized kohl lined eyelids and brows enhanced the midnight glory of the Queen's skin, while only a simple sheen of oil beautified her mouth.

To top her magnificent attire, the Queen of Bhar came from a verifiably ancient bloodline. To me, those people were the worst among all nobility. However, a sprout of liking for her stirred in my breast when she snapped her fingers at her Herald, ending the ceremony. This tender shoot withered to dust when she crooked the same be-ringed digit at me.

"We'll speak to Commander Ismar in the gardens," she intoned and rose from her ivory throne. Heavy fabrics rustled, so gold and jewels didn't cover all of it.

I rose in a jingle of chain mail, still cradling my damn helmet. My buttocks bemoaned my every move. I wanted a soak in a hot bath with my soldier-husband, Ondrey. What I received was tip-toeing between exotic plants and reflective pools with the Queen of Bhar. Naturally, no Queen takes a turn through the gardens alone, so I had to cut through pages, attendants, ladies-in-waiting, consorts, advisors, scribes and, for all I knew, the scullery boys from the kitchens, before I positioned myself a step behind Her Majesty's right shoulder. It was alluring in its own way, but I wanted Ondrey.

"The situation is delicate, Commander," the Queen started without turning her head. She must have sniffed my approach, because my sweat overpowered the floral scents from three paces.

"We had always adored and worshiped our beloved Mother and Protector, the Divine Empress of the South," the Queen said. "Alas, the Cult of Scorpia wishes to present Us in a negative light. They ferment rebellion after rebellion!"

The moment the words Scorpia Cult dropped from the august lips, my tired body snapped to full attention. The cult had been toying with me since I was a girl of seventeen... that's what?... eleven years now. Their tantalizing gifts came between their attempts on my life with no rhyme or reason.

"We had begged the Empress's forgiveness in Our lack of progress and Her Divine Magnificence sent you to aid Our efforts. We are grateful and your timely arrival is appreciated by the Crown of Bhar."

She stopped, and the whole menagerie stopped. I was one step behind. The courtiers—ten more paces further down the gravel path. Human-sized trees with pink and yellow trumpets for flowers filled the gap on either side of the path. They were more useful than the courtiers, because they threw more shade.

"We had made great strides in unmasking the vile rebels," the Queen said. "They will be related to you by Our trusted agent. We believe the fall of the instigators of this ghastly disruption is at hand."

My nostrils flared, like a hound's. If the Scorpia assassins had a hand in this local tiff, well then! Her Majesty could not have found a Commander more invested into smoking them out of their lair.

"Your Majesty, you couldn't have found a Commander more dedicated to crushing this vile Cult. I shall be ready to meet your agent as soon as the sun rises tomorrow."

She lowered her voice so much that I had to stretch out my neck to hear her response.

"Rest after your hard march, Commander. He is still engaged on our behalf within the enemy's midst. For the time being, we wish to deploy the Deadhead Company to pacify the countryside."

This was a dismissal, but I broke the etiquette. "This agent is a man, Your Majesty?" It was strange to give a supremely dangerous and important job to a man, but I wasn't yet so heat-addled as to point it out to a Queen of Bhar.

The foot-tall wrap crowning her head didn't allow for a regal nod. She lowered her eyelids to show her agreement instead. "The more hopeless the cause, the more likely its zealots to recruit among the lesser sex. Yet, they are never among the leaders. They are trusted because they can't rival precisely because of their disadvantage. Such a man is a ready spy."

Since my helmet was still in my armpit and didn't restrain my movements, I was free to nod. So, I nodded. This wasn't my first rebellion. I had seen plenty of confirmation to what she'd said. I just never stopped for long enough to consider it.

"Our agent will find you when he is ready to report his findings," she said patiently.

"How will I know him?" It took all the experience of the Imperial court for me not to stammer. My pounding heart guessed at the answer. I couldn't believe it took the premonition so long to dawn on me. The years must have dulled my longing, or I would have thought of it earlier. When the orders came to depart for the Far South, hope should have sent my senses tingling, but I was too irate and busy. Too rushed to even think about men.

Yet now, in the Queen's presence, the gears turned in my heart. Once they did, it wouldn't simmer down.

The thing was, in my youth, I had fallen in love with a man from the Far South, a man with a brand of Scorpia on his arm. It was my first love, fierce and unsatisfied. Alas, to my seventeen-year-old self, Bhar didn't mean more than any other domain in the Knowable World. I had never asked this man—his name was Parneres—about his homeland. All I knew was that he was from the Far South, and the Far South was a vast land.

Shh, I ordered my heart. What are the chances that this agent is Parneres?

Slim, my mind said.

It's him, my heart insisted, stirring the hurricane it created. It's him!

And my mind came to its support, fishing for evidence to justify my mad hope. Pareneres could have easily come from the same stock as the Queen and her subjects who shuffled behind me. Just... no offense to the Queen's Mistress of the Harem, but he was more beautiful than the consorts accompanying us. Even now, a decade after our parting, Parneres would be beautiful. He was the most beautiful man in the Knowable—

"He said you would know him," the Queen said.

I nearly dropped my helmet on the royal gravel. It was him! After all these years, I had finally found Parneres!