Chapter Eleven—Sultan’s Recourse

“My sultan,” Kalina said, “please do not throw your things.”

He screamed as he tossed a vase across the chamber. It shattered into a thousand pieces against the wall. “WHY CAN’T I FIND HER!”

The head servant, Kalina was in tears. “My lord, if you would just tell me what you mean, I would do all that I could to assist you in this matter.”

“I keep searching over and over and the void reveals nothing to me. Is she lost forever?”

He didn’t even look at her. In fact, Darius hardly realized she was in the room as he tore things about, screaming and asking rhetorical questions.

Rushing up to his guard—who almost flinched but kept his composure—Darius said, “How do you find something that is lost in the void, you fool?!”

The guard’s eyes bulged.

Darius slammed his palm against the wall, the tiles there cracking. This time the guard did flinch, his arms held up between Darius and his face.

“Fool!” he spat and saliva came out of his mouth.

He stalked, barefoot to the center of the room and put out his thick arms and screamed. “I need… I need someone to strangle.”

No one said anything.

“Kalina… KALINA!”

“Ye—yes, my sultan?”

“Come here!”

It took the pathetic woman ages to cross the chamber and come to him. He almost grabbed her then and there so he could kill her. “I’m thirsty.”

She said nothing, only nodded and scampered out to fetch him some wine.

Glancing about and breathing heavily, Darius realized the mess he had created for the first time. He had toppled furniture, ripped down curtains and shattered half of the pottery in the room. Most of it was fine pieces, painted and lacquered to perfection.

The Handra vase was a gift from the king of Kehlindra.

To the hells with all of this.

None of it matters.

Jessamine, you whore!

“WHERE ARE YOU!”

Kalina came running back into the room, clearly fearing he had called for her—the little fool. And then like the fool she was, she tripped over a fallen chair and the wine carafe in her hands shattered across the tiled floors.

She got up, utterly stunned, her stupid mouth hanging open, her doe eyes wide as saucers. Her chin began to quiver and she started babbling some apology or other.

Darius open his mouth in a half snarl and the fool of a girl almost disintegrated into ash right there to be swept away from the breeze coming through the pillars.

Mushkah, flanked by Hahkari entered the chamber. He was wearing the robes of his station—that of the highest ranking general of the land. Also on his thighs were high calf sandals.

“My lord sultan,” he said, glancing about at the wrecked chamber.

Kalina quickly got up and scurried out. Had it not been for Mushkah’s arrival, he’d have grabbed her by the back of the neck.

“What is it!?”

The general breathed in deeply. “You have been shut up in these chambers for days. The war effort calls.”

“I said what is it, Mushkah!”

He straightened. “King Szehsu has been brought to the palace.”

Darius glanced about, an idea coming to him. “Here in the palace,” he muttered quietly as he brought a hand to his face. He stroked his chin. “Yes. Here. In the palace.”

“My lord?”

“Yes, yes!” Darius said. “I will receive the fool on the morning.”

The general nodded. “Very good.” He bowed and stepped out of the room.

“Hahkari!”

The high vizier froze, turned and glanced at the sultan. He was a coward. Darius would have had him sacked ages ago, but he often worked closely with Mushkah.

And he is a good administrator, Darius thought. But his cowering made Darius angry.

“Come here!”

The high vizier stepped forward, his hands clasped together obsequiously. “Yes, my sultan?”

“Bring those Hajja sorcerers here.”

“To the palace?” He swallowed. “But my lord, they may choose not to—“

“Then have them executed, you fool! I want my Hajja sorcerers here! NOW!”

“Yes,” he said, nodding. “Yes, yes of course. I will move immediately and have them brought.”

“Then stop talking and get out!”

As he watched the man leave, he sighed heavily. Tomorrow he would deal with King Szehsu.

A formality.

Even so…

Perhaps if he bedded one of his women in the harem—Hells, I’ll bed a dozen!

That would calm his anger.