Chapter Twenty-Seven—The Calling

Slipping his tunic back over his head, a man’s voice began to call out names. His tone was loud, slightly nasal, and brooked no argument or slowness to action.

“Nestani! Daria! Sanaz! Almira! Diba!”

“Oh no!” Leilyn cried. “Quick! Hide!”

“What, me?” Razul asked, alarmed as he glanced about quickly after the approaching voice. The screaming man was still some few paces away.

“What? No, not you!” one of the girls said quickly.

Despite being told that he didn’t have to hide, Razul knew he wasn’t supposed to be here, so he moved quickly and hid behind a fountain as a man in a fine jacket and a white turban with a hooked nose came forward. He glanced about and Razul ducked down just a little lower.

“I told you to get them!” the man hissed.

Razul thought this man was talking to the woman trailing at his heels, a downcast look in her posture. But she also seemed…

“I am sorry,” the woman said.

What is wrong?

“You are useless, Kalina! Why the sultan hasn’t had your head already, I do not know! DIBA! SANAZ!”

“Must you take them to the party?”

He whirled on her. “Of course—what are you stupid, woman?”

He tuned his head slightly. “NOW!”

The women—none of them had been the girls who had spent time with Razul, shuffled forward, their heads bowed, a look of fear on two of them.

“Here,” one said.

“Almira, when I call you—you come.”

“Yes, Grand Vizier.”

Ah! Raz thought. So that is who this pompous blowfish is.

“Good. Now I see you are all here. You are to come with me and Kalina at once. We must prepare you for the sultan’s grand entrance—quick. Quick!” The girls cried out and jumped with fright as he shuffled them along with his hands. “Go!”

The woman called Kalina lingered as the grand vizier stalked off in a hurry. “Come, Kalina. I will have no more dragging of feet from you, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

She followed him away.

After a time Razul came out of his hiding place when the other girls visibly relaxed. As he came out into the open, glancing after the grand vizier and that woman Kalina, he asked, “What is happening?”

“They are being taken to the sultan,” Leilyn said. She was the curvaceous young beauty with dark wavy hair and long eye lashes.

Razul could still smell her perfume all over him. “Yes, I know,” he said. “I gathered that much. But what is happening here?”

He asked the question, knowing something deeper was at play—something wrong, otherwise the women would not have cowered and cried out.

“They say,” Leilyn said, “that the sultan feeds them to his lions after his chosen treasures are bidden to entertain his most important guests.”

Razul cocked his head. “Is this true?”

The girls shrugged.

“We don’t know,” Leilyn said, her tone demure and her eyes submissive—not like before. Before she was a mountain cat in heat. “All we do know,” is that we never see them again.”

“Truly?” he asked in surprise.

“Not true,” Raina said. “Old lady Shussia is still here.”

“Oh, she doesn’t count,” Rubini said. “Shussia has been here for ages.”

“But the others,” Leilyn said. “We never see the younger girls anymore.”

The girls became quiet.

After a time, Raz nodded. They wanted to believe the girls were sent away to live a normal life, perhaps to become maids in the palaces of the satraps, but deep down, they were afraid. That much was obvious.

What a crime—to destroy such fine beauties!

Glancing back the way the high vizier and Kalina went, Razul breathed out heavily. “No wonder he wants to get here out of here.”

He was speaking of Shiro and the woman he loves.

And he did love her. Razul wasn’t blind. He wasn’t deaf, and he certainly was not dumb.

“What?” Leilyn asked, a confused look on her beautiful face.

“Nothing,” Razul said. “Tell me, Leilyn. Is there a woman among you called Jessamine?”

The girls all gasped.

Raising an eyebrow, Raz asked, “What is it? What do you know?”

“I—“ Leilyn hesitated.

“Hey,” he said, touching her bare shoulder lightly. She was now dressed, but her gown had thin shoulder straps and the material of her gown was mostly gossamer. “You can tell me.”

“We don’t know who she is,” Leilyn said.

“But you do know of her?”

She nodded. “She is not one of the girls of the harem, though.”

“How do you know this?”

Another woman stepped forward. “There is no girl here by that name. But it is one we know of because Darius has called out her name in his sleep.”

“In his sleep?” Razul asked. He glanced about, making sure they weren’t being watched or overheard. He had been here too long as it was.

But gods it was a good time!

Leilyn nodded again. “He cried out for her in his sleep. And… and he curses her name, too.”

Narrowing his eyes, Razul thought about that. It was very strange—and interesting. Now he really wanted to know who this Jessamine was.

Before he hadn’t cared one whit, but now he wanted to get to the bottom of this.

And to help these girls.

“Don’t worry,” Razul said. “I will return.”

Leilyn’s eyes widened as she shook her head. “Oh no—you better not. Guests never come to the harem.”

“But… when I arrived you said—“

She shook her head, a dour expression on her face. With a tiny smile, she said, “I had fun, Raz. Now go.”

Lingering for just a moment, and completely confused, he turned and left the harem, by way of the pillar he had slid down. With his top-tier adventurer’s strength, he jumped a distance of about five paces into the air, then grasped the pillar and hauled himself up with his hands and feet.

Turning, he glanced down into the harem one last time, but Leilyn and the other girls were no longer visible under the turtlenut palms.

Something within him felt…

He shook his head. I need to get back to the others.