Keeper of Wisdom: Fatal Empire Book Two

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

In the end, the patrolling guards did not prove so difficult. Their route was a regular one. During a brief interval while one pair walked around the corner and the other had their backs turned, I skimmed up the wall like a squirrel. I dropped down to the other side just as the roaming patrol returned.

Normally, my intrusion in Zamir’s gardens would likely have been noticed, but the grounds were already filled with busy servants, staging an elaborate dais beneath a silken awning for the wedding couple and preparing food. The scent of grilled meat drifted toward me as I crouched behind a hedge and tried to untangle my cloak from its prickly branches. I winced as a thorn caught on my bare hand and suppressed the urge to curse. Servants and overseers called back and forth from only a few feet away, making sure everything was just so.

No one had noticed me.

I was inside Zamir’s walls, but I still had no idea how to reach Tahlia. She could be anywhere in the manse. The marble building was not quite as large as Admon’s, but it was close. I remembered how long it had taken me to search Admon’s manse from top to bottom on the fateful day I had found my mother’s portrait hidden in the basement, years ago.

I knew I didn’t have that kind of time.

My mind turned over the problem. In addition to Tahlia potentially being anywhere inside the manse, there was also the possibility of Zamir keeping her closeted in some kind of guarded or secret chamber to prevent her escape. Their marriage was no love match, but a matter of convenience. Zamir would get a stake in the successful fabric and clothing business of Tahlia’s parents, while her family received elevated status in exchange.

Something for everyone—except Tahlia.

Zamir was fully aware of the reluctance of his bride-to-be. He wouldn’t take any chances. I bit my lip in frustration as the only sensible option presented itself.

Since I did not know where to find her, I would have to wait for Tahlia to come to me.

I gazed upward at the rising sun. She would be in the garden, getting married soon. I hated the idea of waiting. But it was the only plan that made sense.

I settled myself in the shadow of the hedge and waited.

I saw little of the wedding itself—other than the well-clothed backs of the guests who sat on rows of fringed seating cushions, just in front of the hedge that shielded me. I tried to get a better look when I heard the dreaded fanfare of the wedding march, but everyone stood, blocking my view.

Listening to the vows had been the hardest part.

As much as I wanted to burst forth in protest as I heard Tahlia repeat the required words in her familiar, lilting voice, I knew it would be suicide. I would have to wade through an entire crowd to reach her, and even at a wedding, most of the men carried some sort of jeweled weapon.

So I waited behind the hedge. The rich scent of roasted meat from the nearby wedding feast left a sour taste in my mouth as my stomach churned in frustration.

I did my best to tell myself the wedding did not matter. I would take Tahlia away, and it would be as if it never happened. And if Zamir tried to stop me, I would kill him.

I really hoped he would try to stop me.

Despite my fearsome reputation since Admon’s murder, and all my extensive training, I had never killed before. But I had no problem imagining killing Zamir.

Much to my surprise and annoyance, the Fakrati lord did not retire with his new bride immediately after the ceremony. I languished for hours behind the hedge, shifting occasionally to prevent cramping as Zamir played at holding court over the rest of his guests. They were mostly made up of other Fakrati lordlings and Tahlia’s family and friends from the upper merchant class.

The other Fakrati house members were clearly jealous of Zamir’s new source of wealth, while the merchants were jealous of his noble status. Still, everyone fawned outrageously to gain Zamir’s favor. Zamir played the role of magnanimous host to the hilt. He wielded his power like a club over his guests, watching them dance in attendance while he made a show of holding his new bride close. His dark, oiled ringlets gleamed in the afternoon sun beneath his gaudily jeweled wedding turban, and the finely embroidered silks that hugged his bulky frame were clearly the handiwork of Tahlia’s parents. A curved sword with a jewel-studded hilt hung from his belt.

I could not make out Tahlia’s features from where I hid, but my heart seemed to give a painful twist each time she turned her head in the direction of my hiding place. From this distance, the warm, brown eyes that marked her common-born heritage were not visible. Between her dark hair and silken wedding finery, she could have passed for a noble, which no doubt suited her new husband. A cream-colored veil edged in gold trim obscured the lower half of her face. According to tradition, Zamir would remove it once he escorted her to his bedchamber.

Even though I could not read her expression, Tahlia seemed stiff under her new husband’s proprietary caresses and she spoke little. Her cream and gold dress was no less elegant than Zamir’s attire. I could not help noticing how it showed her slender, curved form to its best advantage. Her long, dark hair hung in loose waves around her bare shoulders. Despite her loveliness, she looked young and vulnerable next to her large husband, who was old enough to be her father.

I desperately wished there was some way I could let her know I was there. But with Zamir clutching her to his side and an entire crowd of guests, as well as a group of hired musicians playing lively background music on sitar and timbale standing between us, there was nothing I could do. I gritted my teeth and continued to wait as the sun crawled across the sky and began to set.

Tashidi would surely be back at the abandoned wine shop by now. I hoped he would not worry too much when he found me gone.

Finally, as twilight started to descend upon the city and the manse’s lanterns were lit, the guests began to drift toward their waiting litters and palanquins for home. Zamir took the opportunity to bid each one of them farewell, barely disguising his gloating over his newly acquired wealth and bride beneath a thin veneer of hospitality. As soon as the grounds had cleared, he turned to the waiting servants.

“Get this cleaned up.” He waved to encompass the wedding decorations with a ringed hand. “I wish to breakfast out here in the morning, once I have finished investigating my beloved’s testaments about her fertility. At length.”

It took all my strength not to hurl my dagger at him in that moment. Tahlia had tried telling Zamir she was barren in an effort to dissuade him from their marriage. Needless to say, it hadn’t worked. He had laughed in her face, saying he would claim one of his concubine’s children as hers if necessary.

Zamir leered at Tahlia as the servants sprang into action. “Come along, wife.”