Silent serving women brought a selection of gowns, and Lady Farah chose a gown of soft peach color for Zagiri. The girl was dressed. Little matching slippers with gold buckles were fitted on her feet. Her golden curls were brushed out, falling over her shoulders and tumbling down her back. Lady Farah nodded her approval. A peach-colored brocade cloak lined in ivory silk was settled over her shoulders, and Jonah’s mother led the way from the bedchamber down the stairs and into the cobbled courtyard where a large gold litter awaited the women.
Zagiri’s eyes widened at the sight of the bearers. They were the tallest men she had ever seen, and they were all perfectly matched blonds. Their totally naked bodies were bronzed and oiled. The muscles of their arms and backs rippled. Their buttocks were tight. Their groins were shaved smooth, and their manhoods were neatly encased in bejeweled golden tubes of considerable length. Around their thick necks they wore collars fashioned from both gold and silver, and studded with pearls. They were barefoot.
“Get in, my child,” Lady Farah said, gently pushing Zagiri into the litter, which was padded in silk, and filled with cushions. When they were both comfortably ensconced she drew the green silk gauze curtains. “I see you like my bearers. If you like I shall arrange for you to have a similar set. They were frightfully expensive, of course, but then you are to be the First Lady of Hetar. You should have nothing but the best. My lads have other talents, as well. Would you like to try one of them?”
“For what?” Zagiri asked.
“Why, for pleasures, you silly girl!” Lady Farah exclaimed, laughing lightly.
“No, thank you,” Zagiri responded, feeling like a fool. Did everyone on Hetar behave in this fashion? “Tell me about Lady Vilia, please.”
“I don’t know why you want to know about her,” Lady Farah said. “She is my son’s past while you are his future.”
“I was taught kindness, and this woman will die shortly,” Zagiri said. “What harm is there in my knowing about my predecessor?”
Lady Farah shrugged. “She was the second wife of Gaius Prospero, the Master of the Merchants, who afterward became Hetar’s emperor. He shed his first wife to marry her. She is of the family Ahasferus, a very prominent clan here in Hetar. She gave Gaius Prospero three children, two daughters and a son. My son was her husband’s slave, and served as his confidential secretary.”
“Slave? My Jonah was a slave? Why was that?” Zagiri demanded to know. What else were they keeping from her? She was a princess of Terah, and she could not wed a man of low birth no matter how exciting and powerful he was.
“My son is of noble birth. His father, Sir Rupert Bloodaxe, was a great Crusader Knight as was your own grandfather, John Swiftsword. But I was not Sir Rupert’s wife. His wife had given him daughters, and he wanted a son of me. I gave him that son, and he treated Jonah with love, and devotion. But he neglected to free him before he died for children born to a man’s Pleasure Woman are considered the property of their male parent. His father’s wife, in a puerile effort to revenge herself upon me for giving her husband the son she could not, took advantage of the law, and sold my son into slavery. Fortunately Gaius Prospero purchased him, and Jonah, being clever, made himself indispensable. As for Vilia, she seduced him, and made him her lover. Later when Gaius Prospero fell in love with a beautiful woman he wanted to rid himself of Vilia, but was afraid of offending the family Ahasferus. Jonah offered to wed Vilia, and revealed at that point his heritage, making him a more than suitable match for her. Of course she was delighted. Why wouldn’t she be? She could see that Jonah was meant for greatness. She has been a devoted and faithful wife to him, always putting his interests before hers. I will give her that,” Lady Farah said. “And she did manage to birth my grandson, Egon, but he is frail. You must give my son strong sons, Zagiri.”
“Of course I will give him strong sons!” Zagiri said. Now that she knew a little more about this man she was so eager to wed she would ask him about his past, and about the poor lady who would soon die. It was obvious Lady Farah didn’t like Lady Vilia, but Jonah seemed devoted to her.
The litter came to a stop, and the curtains were drawn back by a servant. The two women exited their transport, following the servant into the house.
“You are now in the Golden District where the Lord High Ruler lives,” Lady Farah told Zagiri. “This is the house where Lady Vilia has lived in her last days. She did not want to die in the palace lest it be tainted. Come along, Zagiri.” And Lady Farah hurried briskly up a flight of marble stairs to an upper hallway.
A plump young man hurried forward. “Is this she?” he asked.
“Aubin Prospero, I present to you Princess Zagiri of Terah. This is Lady Vilia’s elder son, my dear,” Lady Farah said.
“I am so sorry about your mother,” Zagiri said to Aubin Prospero.
“It isn’t your fault,” he told her. “My half brother will get her life force shortly, and be strong again. She gives her life for him. That is the kind of mother she has been. She has chosen you to be her successor. Know that I hold no ill will toward you, Princess. And you will have the loyalty of the Merchants Guild. We honor your grandfather John Swiftsword of famed memory.”
“Thank you,” Zagiri replied. She knew little of her mother’s father but that he had sold her mother in order to further his career, and he had won his place in Hetarian society with his skills.
They had reached the door of a chamber at the end of the hallway.
“Go in,” Aubin Prospero said. “She is waiting for you. Nay, not you, Lady Farah. My mother specifically asked that the princess come alone.” He opened the door to the room and ushered her through, closing the door behind her.
Zagiri walked slowly to the curtained bed where Lady Vilia lay pale and gasping. “I have come, my lady, as requested,” she said.
“Come closer, and let me see you.” Vilia beckoned with a clawlike hand. “Aah, you are even more beautiful than I imagined. You will make Jonah very happy. Now, Zagiri of Terah, you must promise me that you will take the finest care of my husband and my son, who will shortly belong to you.”
“I promise, Lady Vilia,” Zagiri said earnestly.
“Why, you love him already,” Vilia said, surprised. “That is your innocence, and loving upbringing. Tell your mother that I thank her for that.”
“Why me?” Zagiri asked softly.
“Harder times are coming to Hetar, little princess. My Jonah will need a good woman by his side advising him, supporting him, if he is to survive, if Hetar is to survive. No ordinary woman will do, and we may need Terah’s aid. With you the First Lady of Hetar, your mother and brother are more apt to help. He already cares for you, Zagiri of Terah. He has given you a title. I have never had one despite all the years I have looked after his interests.” Vilia grew very pale, and slumped deeper against her pillows. “Watch over my son, Egon. It was foretold that he would be a great conqueror one day.”
“I will!” Zagiri said.
“I will die shortly, little princess. Take that small lavender crystal bottle from the table. Catch my life’s essence quickly, and see that my little son, Egon, drinks it. Aah! My time is finished,” Vilia cried suddenly.
Zagiri gasped as the light faded slowly from the older woman’s eyes. She quickly took up the container, blinking as a thin wisp of fog seemed to stream slowly from between Vilia’s blue lips. Zagiri captured whatever it was in the bottle as she had been instructed. When no more of the substance came forth she stoppered the vessel, tucking it into the pocket of her gown. Then she ran to the door. “Someone! Quickly!”
Lady Farah hurried forward, putting an arm about Zagiri. “Quickly. You must leave this house.”
“Wait! I have something from his mother for your grandson. He must have it now. Is the boy here?”