Chapter Twelve—The Great Sultan’s Palace

The servant’s carriages were remarkably plain. The interiors didn’t even have padded cushions. Thankfully the ride did not take an overly long period of time.

Shiro sat on the hard bench as the carriage rocked along. Ali glancing at him from across the interior. He looked down at his livery with discontentment in the way that only Ali could achieve. His garb consisted of a white turban and gloves, with black upturned leather slippers shined to a high sheen. At the very tips were tiny tinkling bells. His jacket was a golden silk slashed in blue, and his trousers were also snow white. The tunic underneath was pale blue and low cut.

Wearing the same, Shiro glanced down at his. “What is it? Is something wrong?

“Of course,” Razul said from beside Ali. “This stupid turban is flattening my magnificent hair.”

“Gods!” Ali complained. “Your hair? Why are you not worried that we look like complete idiots wearing these?”

“I don’t know,” Razul chuckled. “I kind of like the bells.”

Ali cursed.

“There is nothing wrong with what we are wearing,” Shiro said. “We look exactly like every other servant of vizier Shai’na’s. Remember, Ali, it’s a disguise. And besides, we can cut off the bells when we’re in a safe location.”

“Except for your slave,” Razul chuckled. “A slave dressed as a slave.”

“Are you making fun of Naro for being a slave?” Shiro asked.

“No,” Razul said languidly as if the conversation was already too difficult to continue. “It’s the irony of the thing, dear strange man. A slave, disguised… as a slave!”

“Wakateru,” Shiro said flatly.

Razul shrugged. “What?”

“I understand your jest,” Shiro said, not realizing he had said the same thing in his native tongue. “I just do not find the humor in it.”

Razul ignored him.

The carriages stopped with a sudden jolt. Shiro leaned over the seat and pulled back the slide. They were somewhat far from the palace proper, and most of the magnificent dome was obscured by the trees they had stopped under.

“Are we really quitting our ride this far from the palace?” Ali asked.

“Of course,” Razul said. “Remember, we are servants. Shai’na’s carriage is no doubt already at the front gates—which you, my dear brother—will have no chance to see.”

“After the sultan is dead, perhaps,” Ali muttered.

Razul laughed out loud. “Indeed!”

“Be quiet!” Shiro chided. “We are here at the Royal Palace now. No more talk of assassinations and dead sultans, do you understand? If we are overheard by even a single person, there will be an army of guards upon us!”

“You are right,” Ali said.

Razul said nothing as he opened the door and got out. Ali followed, and Shiro was last to leave the carriage. The evening breeze was cool, but warm, and the skies were a dark blue. Though the evening was upon them, the skies were far from black.

Surrounding the palace grounds were gardens as far as the eye could see, and ahead Shiro could see the drive that led from the main thoroughfare though the palace walls and into the main grounds.

Narrowing his eyes, he could see that there were dozens of carriages there with prominent nobles, functionaries and viziers. Kanu had said that every satrap from the empire had come to attend the festivities.

Good, Shiro thought. The more in attendance, the easier this will be because of distractions.

“Shiro?” Ali called. “What are you waiting for? Help us!”

“Yes,” Razul said. “Help us.” He lifted his side of Shai’na’s effects without even straining his muscles, unlike Ali, who was breathing in and out like a desert whirlwind.

“Gods!” he hissed. “This. Is… heavy!”

There were two other carriages. Kanu stepped out of one. As Shai’na’s right hand servant, he maintained his dress in all blacks, his slender form moving briskly as he lead the servants across the walk.

In a way, he looked appareled for an assassination, or perhaps a heist. There was a dangerous leanness about him.

“Come! Lift, you lazy fools. I will meet you in the main reception area after a while. I am going to take care of vizier Shai’na’s personal accommodations.”

He strode ahead of them all.

Shiro moved to help Ali with the box. “Razul!” he growled.

“What, man?”

“Act like this is heavy, yes?”

“But it’s not?”

“You are a ‘servant,’” Ali hissed. “Not a top-tier adventurer.”

“Oh, fine. Hnnnnnnngggghhhhh!!!”

“Too much,” Shiro said. “Just go back to the way you were before.”

As they passed through the gate where two guards were stationed, Shiro could see the other servants up head, no doubt belonging to various esteemed guests of the palace.

After they got into the main reception area, Shiro noticed the amount of guards here. Each of the servants was patted down for weapons before being allowed to proceed further.

The boxes were also opened and checked.

“I am surprised,” Shiro said, “that they go through the personal effects of so many rich and powerful individuals.”

“Normally they would not,” Ali said. “But this is the Royal Palace.”

“Ah,” Shiro said, realizing that Ali was right.

Blinking, Shiro saw some of Shai’na’s servants for the first time. Servants that Kanu had chosen specifically? “Half of Shai’na’s servants are women.”

“What,” Razul said, “you think our lady vizier is bathed and waited on by man servants in her inner chambers? What would they call those, handservants?”

Ali raised an eyebrow.

“Are her handmaidens within the ten that Kanu selected?” Shiro asked.

“I don’t know,” Ali said. “We will find out later when we can convene with Kanu in her ladyship’s chambers.”

“All right,” Shiro said, cutting off any further inquiry as the guards came over to pat them down and look inside of Shai’na’s boxes.

There was no danger here, but something inside of Shiro itched.

As they waited for Razul to be searched, the guard who was patting him down seemed to take am abnormally long time, which was starting to cause Shiro some apprehension. The guard then reached into Razul’s jacket and pulled out a leather billet.

“What is this?”

“Darts,” Razul said casually. “Her ladyship enjoys throwing knives while in her chambers.”

Shiro’s eyes widened and his heart jumped into his throat.

“Oh no,” Ali muttered and pinched the upper bridge of his nose.

“Did the fool really bring hidden knives?” Ali hissed quietly.

Shiro gritted his teeth.

What has Razul done?

“Throwing knives?” the guard asked. “He was tall, taller than Razul, and muscular. He motioned another set of men to join him. He handed one of the knives and muttered something to his ally.

That guard turned, glanced at Ali and Shiro. Ali smiled dumbly and shrugged.

The guards turned back to Razul. “You cannot take these into the Royal Palace, you fool! We are confiscating these blades. Also, now you must strip naked.”

“What?” Razul barked.

“If you are unwilling, you will be escorted to a secure room and interrogated along with your fellows. If you do not comply, your lord or mistress will be escorted from the premises.”

“Oh gods,” Ali croaked.

“Our patron lady,” Shiro said as confidently as he could, “is none other than her ladyship vizier Shai’na, personally invited to the palace by the sultan.”

The guard looked at Shiro with boring eyes and shook his head. “It does not matter. There will be no weapons near the sultan.”

Shiro glanced at Razul, giving him a look that said he would cut him in half if he messed this up.

“Fine!” Razul said. “Let’s go to your… stripping room, you man peepers.”

They escorted him away. As Shiro watched them go, Shiro swallowed hard. “Is he going to do something stupid?”

Ali, covering his face, shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Sometime later, Kanu arrived, said, “Her ladyship’s rooms have been provided.”

“In the manner that we spoke of?” Shiro asked.

Nodding, Kanu said, “Yes. Now where is your friend? Raul? Raisin?”

“Razul,” Ali said, stressing his brother’s name. “And he is over that way.”

“Why?”

“The guards took him away,” Shiro said.

“What?” Kanu asked, his eyes widening slightly.

“They found throwing knives on him,” Ali said.

Kanu cursed under his breath, then raised his chin as his eyes became aware of something. Turning, Shiro saw that one of the guards who had taken Razul away was standing there. “He beckoned them over.”

“Oh no,” Ali moaned. “This is not good.”

“Stay calm,” Kanu said. “Remember, we belong here.”

Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Shiro followed Kanu and Ali down the corridor.

“Your friend is in a lot of trouble,” the guard said. “Do you know that?”

Kanu cleared his throat. “I have been made aware of his… misstep.”

“Good,” the guard said, and ushered them down the corridor and into the room. The walls were tiled with intricate patterned tiles about waist high and were met by solid white plaster on the walls. In the center of the room was a large table where Razul sat, two guards on either side of him.

Further in, there were other chambers. This looked to be a small barracks. Razul, looking contrite as ever, made Shiro blink. It almost seemed…

Fake.

“You. Are. Not allowed. To take knives into the palace, you goat-brained moron!” The captain barked. He had a red sash around his waist and a short beard with his upper lipped shaved clean.

“I am sorry,” Razul whined with his hands clasped together and bowing with each supplication. “Please, please—so sorry.”

The captain turned to Shiro, Kanu and Ali. “We could throw him—and all of you—in the dungeons for this, yes?”

Kanu nodded. “My sincerest apologies. He is new and doesn’t understand proper protocol.” Then Kanu lowered his voice. “To be completely honest, taking him on was a favor by her ladyship, if you know what I mean.”

The captain almost looked embarrassed.

“I assure you,” Kanu continued with a short bow as he pressed his hands together, “on the honor of her ladyship and my position as her head of household that this will not happen again.”

“Don’t tell me,” the captain said. “Tell him!”

“You fool!” Shiro shouted at Razul and grabbed his ear lobe from over the table.

“Owowowowow!” Razul cried, slapping the table with his hands.

“Now get over here!” Shiro commanded with a vigor and anger that was only half feigned as he dragged Razul from the table and out into the corridor, where he threw the top-tier adventurer out.

Once Razul was out of immediate sight of the guards, he rubbed his ear and cursed under his breath.

Shiro would have smiled, but he was on a razor’s edge from collapsing like a piece of rotten driftwood from the pure intensity of his apprehension. If they failed here—they failed Jessamine.

There was a pause as Shiro turned around.

Finally the captain looked at them all, and nodding, it was clear he was satisfied. “You are lucky your lady is a vizier of the city, otherwise this would have gone differently.”

Shiro let out a breath of air in relief.

Kanu bowed. “Thank you for your discernment, Captain.”

“Yes, yes!” he snapped, waving a dismissive hand. “Now go.”

They left the chamber and went back out into the servant’s reception area where they found Naro.

“That was close,” Kanu said.

“Gods…” Ali muttered.

Addressing Naro, who had evidentially arrived while they were indisposed, Kanu told him to pick up a chest. To them all, he said, “We go to her ladyships chambers.”

Shiro and Ali both grunted as they picked up the other case. Razul, no longer playing the servant as dutifully as before, picked up his side of the case he shared with Naro and they headed through a corridor with an arched ceiling where guards interspersed between pillars stood at attendance with pikes and scimitars at the ready.

They went up two flights of stairs.

Shiro and Ali breathed heavily, and so did Naro.

Once they were out of earshot, Ali moaned and grunted. “I… I can’t believe… you—Razul!”

“I did it deliberately, you fools!”

“What?” Shiro asked. “Why… would you do that?”

“To get a look at the garrison,” Razul said. “They have a lot of weapons back there, and there is a window for easy access.”

“It had bars!” Ali breathed. “You can’t… just—“

“I know what I am doing,” Razul said. “This would not be the first time in a similar palace. I know the protocol of the guards. I knew they would not throw us in the dungeons, not when our lady is a vizier invited by the sultan no less.”

“Like the guard said,” Shiro added.

“Exactly!” Razul added sharply, his eyes meeting Shiro’s from across the steps. He raised his free hand and tapped his temple.

Kanu said nothing as they continued on their way through the massive corridors bedecked with thick rugs, tapestries by famous artisans, silk curtains and painted pottery that looked like it was worth a fortune.

These halls were markedly more sumptuous and Shiro found himself glancing about like a tourist.

They took a series of turns and ended up in an apartment area.

“This is it,” Kanu said. “You, slave” he said to Naro. “Stay at the door.”

“Yes, Master,” Naro said dutifully.

Kanu opened the door and went into the apartment. They followed him in, and despite his heavy breathing, Shiro glanced about, marveling at the opulent qualities of the rooms. The rugs were large, woven with delicate patterns and double tasseled. The plaster on the walls was a deep salmon and here and there were little alcoves with lacquered pottery gilded with gold and silver.

Near the windows were large plants, giving the rooms a feeling of life and wildness. To the left was the wash room, tiled in white and a huge pool surrounded by pillars and diaphanous white curtains for bathing in the center of the room.

There were racks of lacquered wood that housed plants and towers and there were wash stands and mirrors of glass and polished silver lining the walls.

“Oh,” Razul said. “Not bad.” He nodded his approval.

“Not bad?” Ali said, gasping for air. “This makes my manor look like a farmer’s hut, man!”

Shiro wandered over to the bed chamber. The bed was magnificent, framed with four posts, the wood trimmed with gold paint. There were pink curtains drawn back, and the silk covers hid a mattress half the size of Shiro’s bed chamber in Ali’s house.

He found himself turning this way and that, marveling at the expensive paints, the lacquered woods and the beautiful pottery.

“Don’t forget,” Kanu said. “We have work to do.” He moved toward the windows. “Your friend will come from that direction. The irrigation cannal is over there.”

Ali glanced through the window. “I see nothing,” he said as he moved back and forth to maintain a better view.

“It is far back,” Kanu said. “Past the gardens.”

“Getting up here should be no problem for Debaku,” Shiro added with a nod as looked at the gardens. There were hedges and trees. Paved walkways trailed about fountains and lamp posts.

Ali’s half-brother stood beside Shiro. “We still need to find your friend—and the Sultan,” Razul said. “It’s not like we can just saunter about within palace our naked blades in hand until we find him.”

“You are right,” Kanu said. “And next time, tell us of your plans first. You almost made my heart stop.”

Razul laughed.

“What is funny?” Ali rebuked. “This is not a game.”

“This is going to be so much fun!”

“Kami-sama,” Shiro breathed, his heart beating faster. The sheer tension and high probability of failure was fraying his nerves, and it was enough without this loose dagger flipping about.

“It will be fine,” Razul said. Ali gave him a look and Razul raised his hands. “All right. All right, man! I will behave myself.”

“I am starting to think that is not possible, brother.”

Sighing with a sort of satisfaction, Razul said, “When you know what you are doing—when you know what you are capable of—things become less of a burden on your soul. That is how I am. A free spirit, yes?”

“A free spirit?” Kanu asked.

Grinning like a fool, Razul said, “Indeed.”

Kanu then swept his gaze to Ali and Shiro, the look on his face not one that bespoke confidence.

“Come, my friends. We are here now.” Razul glanced about as he held up his arms in a grandiose gesture. “In the palace! Open sesame all your dark secrets!”

Ali pointed an aggressive finger. “You are not Ali Baba and you do not have forty thieves.”

“Would that I did, little brother.”

“If only that legend were here with us now,” Kanu said.

“Nani?” Shiro asked. “Who is this ‘Ali Baba’?”

Razul turned to him. “A legend!” he said, stressing the second word with a wide grin. “And after this, perhaps we will be even more famous than Ali Baba and his forty thieves.” He tapped his temple the way the Abassirs love to do—as if they’ve imparted to you a thing of great value.

Ali groaned. “Preposterous camel shit!”

Razul laughed.