Chapter Eight—First Laid Plans

After the table was cleared of dishes from the noon day meal, everyone conglomerated into the dining chamber where Ali had laid out a large map of the city he had Nusah run out and get.

“I can’t believe this cost a silver,” Ali complained.

“It was the best map the cartographers had, Master.”

“Look at the detail,” Shiro said, leaning over the drawings. “I can see the structure of the palace grounds.”

“It is too bad a map of the palace itself can’t be bought.”

“For security, no doubt,” Debaku said.

Hafza entered the dining chamber. She had yelled at Ali at length earlier in the morning. In fact, it was what had woken Shiro from his deep sleep.

It was just as well.

We need to stop wasting time and find a way into the palace.

Razul, leaning back in his chair with one leg on the edge of the table, leaned forward for the bottle of wine in easy reach.

“Do you need that?” Hafaza asked, and took it before Razul’s could take the bottle and refill his glass. “Good—then I will have it put away.”

Razul smiled like the swashbuckler he was.

With a heavy yawn, he said, “Let me know when you are done with your schemes.”

“Do you not want to be a part of this?” Ali asked. “Nusah has told me that there will be a banquet at the palace every single night as befits the sultan’s pleasure. The word is all around.”

“Really?” Razul asked, and leaned up in his chair. “That sounds interesting.”

“Indeed,” Ali said. “Every satrap from across the empire will be in attendance.”

“That sounds expensive.”

“This is perfect,” Shiro said. “There will be many people coming and going. Wagons, horses and carriages. There will be distractions that will help us into the palace easier.”

“Indeed,” Ali said. “The celebrations are supposed to be in honor of the empire’s newest satrapy.”

Narrowing his eyes, Shiro said, “Has Darius thrown banquets like this before for this reason?”

Ali nodded. “Sure. Many times. But not without an end date.”

“Perhaps he is in a festive mood,” Hafza suggested.

Ali shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“In any event,” Razul said, sitting up straighter as he continued to look at the map—more specifically the palace grounds. “I think this will provide a suitable distraction for us to sneak into the palace. Not that we need it.”

“Master Ali?” Nusah asked. “Is it true you plan to kill the sultan?”

“What?” Ali asked harshly. “Where did you hear that?”

Nusah’s eyes wandered over to Razul, who didn’t seem aware of their conversation.

“I see,” Ali said. “Do not ask me about that again—and keep your mouth shut about these plans, or I will have Naro skin you alive with his sharp claws.”

Nusah’s eyes widened and he glanced at the cat eye standing behind Ali. He chuckled, a raspy feline-sounding chortle.

“Do not frighten Nusah,” Hafza said.

But Ali ignored her and said, “We need a way in. Something that will keep us hidden—out of sight.”

Of course, Ali didn’t mean it. He was all talk. Most of the time. “

“Mm,” Shiro noised with a nod. “I do not believe we can disguise ourselves and enter the palace.”

Razul laughed.

“Wait,” Ali said. “Perhaps we can.”

“What do you mean?” Debaku asked.

“Yes,” Hafza said with narrowed eyes. “Please tell.”

“If we bring Shai’na in on our plan, we can go into the palace, straight through the front gate!”

“Whaaat?” Hafza said in astonishment. “And you think she would just, join you in this? It is crazy! You are crazy, husband!”

Ali laughed. “No, think about it.”

Shiro said nothing, only glanced between Ali and his wife. When Ali’s excited face met Razul, the man smiled broadly and shrugged.

“Shai’na hates Darius,” Ali said. “Why do you think I keep going to her for everything?”

“Because she is a vizier and knows more about this city than you ever could, of course,” Hafza said.

She was dressed in a lovely dress that wrapped about her body. It accentuated her form well, but the colors were not overly festive. Where she showed her wealth today was in her jewelry. Upon her left wrist were two golden bracelets and sparkling earrings dangled from her ears.

They looked heavy.

“Not liking Darius is one thing,” she added. “Hating him and being willing to join your little circus troupe to assassinate him is another matter, yes?”

“So, what? We do not have to tell her we plan to kill him.”

“And should you fail?” Hafza asked. “She will be executed, Ali.”

She had a point. Bringing her in on the plan would be to endanger her life. Darius would surely have her killed if they failed.

“If we fail, my love, you and Nusah as well as the servants, will all be thrown in a dungeon somewhere.”

As if she hadn’t thought of that, Hafza’s eyes widened.

“Yes,” Ali said. “You must leave the city.”

“No!”

“But… did you not just hear me, wife?”

Shiro sighed heavily. This first attempt to lay down some plans about getting into the palace seemed like more of a negotiation between Ali and his wife rather than an actual attempt at coming up with a good set of ideas.

“Listen to me,” Hafza said, and jabbed the table with her forefinger as she leaned over the map. “If you fail this little quest, you will die. We—“ she gestured around the room—“will all die.”

“That does not make sense.”

“Ha!” Hafza scoffed. “It makes perfect sense.” She nodded to emphasize her last words, her face a mask fit for battle.

“Ah,” Razul said, raising a finger into the air. “My good sister-in-law. You mean to say that the broad sweeping consequences will be so great, that they will leave my dear little brother with no choice but to succeed?”

“Well,” Hafza said with a smile. “At least one Bashir gets it. Perhaps I should have married the smarter brother.”

Everyone except for Ali laughed. “Hey!” he rebuked. “You will show me respect, woman.”

“Then don’t plan to fail.”

“I’m not!”

“Good!”

“Now that you all understand what is at stake here, you make your plans as if your lives—and the lives of everyone else in this house—depend on it. Because they do. Now I will go out shopping. Kuafa!—“

Ali jumped.

“Where are you?!”

“Here, Mistress,” the handmaiden called back, and revealed herself in the hallway. She too was dressed well with dangling jewels, though she didn’t outshine Hafza by half a span.”

“Good.” She turned back. “Nusah? What are you waiting for?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Mistress.” He moved away from the table and toward the door.

“Move with some enthusiasm, boy.”

“Yes, Mistress!” he said, running out to ready the carriage for Hafza’s outing.

“Kuafa, where is my sister?”

“She is ready to depart, my lady.”

“Most excellent.” She finally turned to Ali. “After my shopping, I will spend time with my friends. I think it is best that I do not spend time here to get in your way. It is a shame Jessamine is not with us at this time.”

Ali nodded.

As soon as Nusah and the women were gone, the men turned to the map to continue laying down their plans for their entry into the Royal Palace.

“So that is why she hates him…” Shiro said.

“Yes,” Ali said.

“Well,” Razul said casually as he poured himself a glass of wine, “when you are related to the previous sultan –if even only by marriage—and then that sultan is murdered, that may make one harbor… resentments.” He said the last worth with a playful air of scheming connivery.

He chuckled.

Shiro shook his head. “Are you certain she can get an invitation to the Royal Palace?”

“Sure,” Ali said. “Why not?”

After having her husband killed, I would think Darius would keep such a vizier at arm’s length.”

“I am surprised Darius did not have her and her entire family killed,” Debaku said from the other side of the table.”

“My thoughts as well,” Shiro said.

“At some point,” Razul said as he swirled his wine, “you have to let some of them live, otherwise turn the entire country against you. You can’t kill everyone. I would have done the same thing.”

“And as you can see,” Shiro said, “Shai’na may be amenable to betraying Darius. In fact, if what you say is true, Ali, I might say she has been waiting for a chance like this.”

Ali laughed. “It is perfect, is it not?”

“It does seem like a fortunate turn of events,” Debaku said. “This will serve us well. Can she help us in other ways?”

“I don’t know,” Ali said with a shrug. “We need to approach her with this.”

“Carefully,” Shiro said, feeling a sense of danger loom more heavily over them—over Jessamine.

“Very carefully,” Ali added. “But, Shai’na and I are on good terms. I think she will want to help us. If we can overthrow Darius, she will want to be involved in this in a way that bespeaks more than just revenge, I think.” He tapped his temple as he smiled.

“I did not know these things boiled below the service in Darshuun,” Shiro said. “But, knowing the history of how Darius became the sultan, I should not be surprised.”

Something inside of Shiro exulted in this news.

I am coming, Jessamine.