The Warrior King (Book 4) by Michael Wallace Page B

know her?”
    The man sounded as mentally slow as he looked, but Sofiana knew this was the wizard’s magic playing tricks. Lassitus had been clever enough following her through the palace. Perhaps not as clever as Faalam, but he had tracked her down when she tried to hide and given her a smirk to let her know that she was at his mercy. She enjoyed the stupid expression on his face at the moment.
    “The girl the sultan told you to bring to the eunuch for training.”
    “Oh, yes. The barbarian child for the harem. Of course. I forgot that.”
    “Well, don’t forget,” Chantmer snapped, “or the sultan will do to your head what he did to your stones.”
    Sofiana couldn’t help but giggle. Lassitus glanced at her, nostrils flaring and his skin flushing an even darker shade than its usual mahogany color.
    He took her arm in a strong grip. “Come along.”
    Sofiana bristled and only just resisted elbowing the eunuch in his fat, sweating belly. But Chantmer gave her a hard look, and she took control of her temper and let Lassitus lead her into the harem. The wizard stayed behind, his heavy eyebrows knitted together in concern. His whisper tickled in her mind, one final exhortation to remain confident. She felt the packet of silver bite where she’d hidden it inside her small clothes.
    It was cooler inside the harem, and dark but for the flickering light of oil lamps. Aromatic smoke rose from censers in the corners. The floor was colorful tiles in geometric designs, and pillows lay heaped everywhere. Women in various states of undress, from diaphanous gowns to full nudity, lounged about in the room.
    According to Chantmer, the sultan preferred his younger wives and concubines, but here in the harem the mature women seemed to hold sway. Several women the age of Kallia or the princess lounged on pillows, dozing beneath huge palm frond fans being waved by the girls. One woman opened her wide, kohl-lined eyes and gazed at Sofiana for a few seconds before yawning like a giant cat and rolling onto her side. A girl not much older than Sofiana dabbed at the woman’s forehead with a damp cloth while another young woman peeled a pomegranate and fed her the seeds from red-stained fingertips.
    As Sofiana entered, a bare-breasted woman with deep brown, almost black skin looked up from smoking a hookah. But her eyes were dull, staring right through the girl without seeing her. Another woman, this one with more olive skin and almost as beautiful as Princess Marialla, spotted Sofiana and a leonine smile came over her face. She was nude, her body damp with oil. She uncrossed her legs indelicately and patted the velvet pillow next to her.
    “Come here, girl, and sit a while.”
    “This one is not for you, Nafalla,” Lassitus said. His grip tightened slightly on Sofiana’s wrist. “The sultan hasn’t had her yet.”
    “Oh, fah!” the woman said. She waved her hand dismissively and turned away with her nose upturned.
    Sofiana was relieved when the eunuch led her past the women and through an archway into deeper chambers. “What did she want?”
    Lassitus gave her a side look, one eyebrow raised. “The sultan may have castrated the harem guards, but he hasn’t bothered with certain bored women. Stay away from that one if you can. Also the one with the red hair.”
    “I didn’t see her.”
    “And hopefully she didn’t see you either.”
    “I’m not scared of them,” Sofiana said. “They’ll be sorry if they touch me.”
    Lassitus chuckled.
    They crossed a small internal courtyard with a bubbling fountain and sharp-scented lemon trees, passed two eunuch guards who touched the hilts of their scimitars but did not draw the weapons, and entered another, smaller chamber. On the floor lay a bed of pillows and silk sheets where Faalam slept with his mouth open, snoring. Lassitus stumbled to a halt.
    “That’s curious,” he whispered. “He is still asleep. Should I wake him?”
    Why was he asking her? Was he incapable of taking