Queen Arma's head was mounted on one stake, Prince Crol's on the other.
At the bottom of the hill long lines of the condemned were being herded to the execution blocks. Posts had been erected just beyond and naked men were tied to those posts, screeching in agony while gleeful soldiers tormented them with spears.
Iraj was surrounded by his royal guard and when some of the women saw Safar's manner they drew their swords and stepped in his way.
"Let him through, Iraj commanded.
Reluctantly they parted but they held their swords at ready.
Iraj was grim, face as pale and bloodless as Methydia's had been. He signaled his women to move farther away.
"Give us some privacy, he barked.
The women pulled back, but they weren't happy about it.
"Why did you come here, Safar? he asked. This isn't something that's necessary for you to see."
"I want to ask a favor of you, Iraj, Safar said.
Iraj stirred, irritated. Can't it wait? This is hardly the time or place."
Then he, too, took note of Safar's expression. What is it, my friend? What has happened?"
Safar shook his head, too overcome to answer.
Then sad understanding dawned in Iraj's eyes. Ah, I see. Your woman died, is that it?"
"Yes."
"And you loved her?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry for that. I hope you don't hate me for it."
"No."
"It was an accident of war."
"Methydia said the same thing before she died."
"A wise woman."
"She was that."
Iraj searched Safar's face, then asked, What is it you want from me? What can I do to ease your pain?"
Safar pointed at the awful scene below. Spare them, he said.
Iraj gave him a strange look.
"Let me explain why this would be good for you, Safar said.
Iraj shook his head. You don't need to explain your reasons to me. You asked a boon. You shall have it. Freely given and without hesitation.
"After all, that is our agreement. Our blood oath pledge to each other."
Iraj shouted for his aides and they came running up to him. Release these people, he commanded. Return them to their homes."
"But, Majesty, one of the aides protested. What of their defiance? We must make an example of people like this."
Iraj glowered at the man, who visibly shrank under the glare. If you ever dare question me again, sir, the king said, it'll be your head on one of those blocks. Do as I commanded! At once!"
The aides rushed off to his bidding. A few moments later horns blared, orders were shouted, and the chains were stricken from the limbs of the people of Sampitay. They fell to their knees, weeping and shouting praises to the heavens, thanking the gods and Protarus for sparing them.
Safar watched, thinking it was Methydia they should be thanking, not Protarus.
"To be frank, my friend, Iraj said, I am relieved to grant you this favor. Viewing mass executions, much less ordering them, is one of my least favorite duties."
"Don't order them, then, Safar said.
Iraj's brow rose in surprise. His cheeks flushed. It was clear he was not used to be spoken to this way. Then he made a rueful smile.
"You speak honestly, he said. No one in my court dares do that. Which is what I lack most of all. A friend who dares to tell me what he truly believes."
"Not an hour ago, Safar said, you asked me to join you. Do you still want my service?"
"Indeed I do, Iraj answered. But I don't want your answer now. I granted you a favor. It wouldn't be right to ask one in return. It would be a stain on our friendship."
"You'll have my answer just the same, Safar said. And it won't be a favor I'm granting you. I will join you, freely and gladly. All I ask is that you listen to my advice, which I will give you as honestly as I can."
"Done! Iraj said, face lighting up.
He thrust out his hand. Take it, my brother, he said. And I will lift you as high as it is in my powers to do."
Safar clasped his hand.
Iraj said, Safar Timura, son of a potter, wizard of the High Caravans, I, King Iraj Protarus, proclaim you Grand Wazier. From this moment on you are the highest of the high in my realm.
"And you may command all but myself."
Safar felt the world turn about. It was as if a great circus master had spun the Great Wheel of the Fates. Safar was strapped to it, his head the arrow point, spinning, spinning, spinning. And he heard the circus master's cry, Around and around he goes… and where he stops… the gods only know!"
Safar gripped Iraj's hand tighter, partly to steady himself, but mostly to keep himself from snatching his own hand away. He wanted nothing of this. His greatest desire was to climb aboard the Cloudship with Biner and Arlain and the others and flee this place, this fate.
But the Cloudship was no more.
And he had made a promise to Methydia.
Safar steeled his nerve and said as firmly as he could: I accept."
That night Iraj called his court into session. There was a small ceremony to proclaim Safar Grand Wazier.
The faces of the king's officers and courtiers were all a blur to Safar. He could pick out only a few. Some were friendly. Some were not. Mostly, there were only looks of curiosity and awe.
Who was this man who had been lifted so high, so quickly?
Did his presence bode ill, or fair?
Late in the night Safar dreamed that Methydia came to him.
In his dream he felt soft hands caressing him. He opened his eyes and saw Methydia's face and Methydia's slender body poised over him. He cried out her name and crushed to her to him. They made love, a floaty love like they were aboard the Cloudship once again. Then the Cloudship burst into flames, plunging for the earth and they clasped one another, riding the fire in an endless fall.
When he awoke in the morning Safar found Leiria snuggled in the crook of his arm, smiling in her sleep.
Feeling like a traitor, he gently tried to extract his arm. But Leiria came awake, purring and sloe-eyed and clutching him closer.
He untangled her politely, but firmly. I have duties to attend to, he said.
At first Leiria pouted, then she giggled and got up, saying, I mustn't be selfish and take all your strength, my lord."
Safar managed a faint smile for an answer.
She starting pulling on clothes. You called out another woman's name in the night, she said. Her tones were light, but Safar could sense hurt in them. Was she the one who died?"
"Yes, Safar answered softly.
Leiria shrugged. I don't mind, she said. It's good that your heart is faithful. She had her head down, concentrating hard on buckling on her weapons. The king has ordered me to comfort you and guard you with my life."
She raised her head and Safar saw tears in her eyes. The king orders, she said, but I do it gladly. I will guard you and I will be this other woman for you for as long as you like.
"And perhaps someday it will be my name you speak instead of… hers."
Safar didn't know what to say. From the look on her face a word either way might cause a flood of tears. She would despise him for humiliating her.
So all he said was, You honor me, Leiria."
Weak as that reply was, she seemed to find satisfaction in it. She nodded, finished her dressing, then kissed hima quick peck on the cheekand left.
Safar looked after her wondering how much was artifice and how much was truly meant.
And how much would she tell Iraj?
It wasn't long before Safar had a chance to test those questions. He'd barely had time to snatch a quick meal and don his clothes before Iraj summoned him.
Leiria was his guide and guard as he made his hasty way into the king's presence. She gave no hint of the night they'd had together. Her bearing was professional and military, her manner courteous and respectful.
When they came to the king's rooms he didn't have to undergo the usual search for weapons and was instantly swept inside. Iraj was seated in a simple camp chair, maps and charts spread out on a small table in front of him.