The Palace Pt. 09

- Oh, they're planting more shade trees in some of the poorer neighborhoods, so I suppose it's not all bad." he said. "But it seems as though the boy never leaves his bedchamber. It's his mother who runs everything, they say."

- "Really?"

- "It's her officials you have to bribe, if you want to get anywhere. Her eunuch must be making a fortune. Opkor, I think he's called."

Father stayed up a bit later than usual, but eventually he grew tired, and took to his bed. Finally, I was alone with Minika.

- "He seems more energetic." I observed.

- "He's just excited because you're home." she said. "He still tells everyone he meets that you work at the Palace."

- "You've done a wonderful job of looking after him, Min. Thank you." I kissed her on the forehead, and put my arm around her. "Is there enough money?" I asked.

- "More than enough. You bring more than we need every time you come home. Look." She showed me where she had hidden a small stash of coins.

- "Good girl. You do everything well. Have I thanked you for what you do for me?"

- "I'm happy to do it." she insisted.

- "So you say. But you deserve a reward. What can I do for you? What would make you happy?"

- "It would be nice if you were home more often." she said. That was the closest Minika ever came to complaining. "But I know that it's the Palace, and that you come as often as you can."

I took her to bed, and we made love, with more energy (on my part) than usual. Afterwards, I made up my mind that Minika would have some money of her own. I didn't tell her, though.

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I relayed my father's comments to the Emperor and Empress: to Yasina, in writing, and to Bishkur, in conversation, when we were supposed to be 'discussing' virgins. He immediately saw their significance.

- "That is what they are saying about you? Or me, rather? A bedroom wrestler? Oh, dear."

- "Don't forget the tree planting." I reminded him. "People are aware of that."

- "A better balance would be preferable." was all he said.

That led to an unusual event: a meeting between the three of us.

- "Tell the Empress, as you told me." Bishkur instructed me.

- "I've read his report." said Yasina. "Unless there's something new, I don't see the point."

I heard her words, but my eyes flashed to Bishkur's face. He was mouthing words, slowly, in the most exaggerated fashion. I'm no lip-reader, but it wasn't difficult at all to decipher the message.

'Op - Kor' 'Lis - Ning' He repeated the name, to make sure. 'Op - Kor' So Yasina's pet eunuch was a witness to this discussion.

Without missing a beat, Bishkur then answered his mother aloud. "I know, Mother. But please - indulge me. Carrach, please repeat your father's ... comments - as he said them."

I am something of a mimic. After all, I had been successfully impersonating the Emperor, matching his vocabulary and patterns of speech. So it was easy for me to stand, and imitate my father. Not just the words - I also matched his facial expression, and his gestures, including the little flip of the hand.

Bishkur smiled through my little performance. Yasina put up with it.

- "There! Did you see that?" he asked. "The little ... hand motion?"

- "What about it?"

- "Mother. That is a gesture of dismissal. It is only a short step from there to ... contempt."

Yasina made a face. "What? You're exaggerating." she said.

- "Carrach can explain. It's a gesture of dismissal. Like the motion of a broom. It signifies that the subject is not worthy of discussion. In the case of a person, that suggests ... a nonentity. A lightweight."

- "Bishkur." she said, with a sigh. "We've talked about this. It is important to establish a reputation for virility."

- "I understand, Mother. And since I have no military training, this was the route we chose. And Carrach has achieved wonders. But I worry that this may be perceived as ... one-dimensional. That my reputation may be that of a ... bedroom warrior."

- "The words of a retired almond merchant!" said Yasina. "Really, Bishkur?"

- "Carrach's father cannot be the only man in Zamarka thinking ... and saying such things." said Bishkur. "And if this is the subject of conversation, between neighbors, around the fountain ..."

Yasina was still frowning, but Bishkur had stopped talking. His eyes had gone vacant, and he had that far-away look of someone lost in thought. It was as if he had left the room - in the middle of his own sentence.

- "That's it!" he said.

- "What's it?" said Yasina.

Bishkur came back, suddenly. He was more animated than I had ever seen him. "The fountains, Mother. When was the last major program of public works? When were the public fountains last repaired? Or improved? What if we built new ones?"

- "You want to repair the fountains?" she asked, incredulous.

- "And improve the water supply. When was the last time the aqueducts and the cisterns were repaired?" he continued.

- "There are inspectors for these things, aren't there?" said the Empress.

- "Poorly paid. Lining their own pockets whenever the opportunity presents itself. I am speaking of a major program of public works, Mother."

- "And you think that this would help your reputation?" she asked.

- "People use the fountains every day. They gather around them to ... gossip. They draw water at all hours of the day. If Carrach's father knows that we have planted more trees, do you think that he would fail to notice work on the fountains? Or the aqueducts?"

- "I don't know." said Yasina. "That would be ruinously expensive."

- "Less costly than a war." said Bishkur. We had been studying that much-neglected aspect of military history, together. "And all of the bribes have been paid, our ... adherents have been rewarded. We can afford this, Mother."

Yasina seemed to be wavering, but appeared unconvinced.

"We cannot afford not to." he said.

I was dismissed, then. In fact, it was surprising that I had been allowed to remain in the room for so long. Maybe they just forgot that I was there. It's not like they asked my advice - but I was becoming privy to many more secrets all the time.

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Bishkur got his Water program. It would eventually grow into a massive public works project, which he insisted on supervising personally. People started seeing their Emperor in odd places: tasting the water from a public fountain, inspecting a cistern, or visiting public baths.

A few corrupt officials were executed - which everyone likes (except possibly the officials in question). But the main impact of Bishkur's plans was quickly felt. Zamarkans began to get the distinct impression that their Emperor cared about them.

With Bishkur roaming around the capital like this, he couldn't be spending his afternoons with concubines. That should have meant that I got more of a rest. But Yasina called on me a few more times, and even let me sleep with Nanka again.

I also got another chance to go home - this time with specific instructions to record my father's opinion. If only I could have told him, that the Palace was eager to hear his thoughts. He wasn't shy about expressing them, either.

- "Might have had the boy all wrong." he said. "And I'm a big enough man to admit it, too. Looks like his heart is in the right place."

"Smart, too: every Emperor thinks he has to begin his reign with a new war." he continued. "Fierce expensive thing, wars. Cheap slaves flood the market - bad for business. Then you have to set up a garrison in some far-flung province that doesn't bring us anything in trade. Money down the drain, if you ask me."

He was in full flood once again. "Some wars are worthwhile - I know that. But it's a damned good idea to finally fix the water supply."

"Say! Did you know this was coming, Carrach? Is that why you were so keen on defending your Emperor?"

I just smiled. "I might - just - be involved in this project - peripherally." I said.

- "That right? Hah! Wait 'till I tell old Wannak - he's so full of himself, just 'cause he saw the Emperor over by the baths."

That gave me a momentary fright. I would have to tell Bishkur, in no uncertain terms, to stay away from Wool Street and the Sammyet fountain. And several of the markets. If my father - or anyone who knew me well - got a good look at the Emperor's face ...

On the way back to the Palace, I made sure to drop another coin on Serim's mat. I had missed him on the way out.

- "The other day." I said, before he could speak. "What did you mean? About good company?"

- "You are in good company, Lord." he repeated. "Good fortune follows you, and your back is safe." he said, with a smile.

That was decidedly odd. 'Good fortune follows you' could have been some strange blessing that I wasn't familiar with. But 'your back is safe'? I would have loved to have an extended conversation with Serim.

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It was two weeks later, when Yasina called for me.

- "I need you to do something for me." she said.

- "I am at your service." I replied.

- "No - not like that. This is serious." she said. "Do you know who Semira Miramis is?"

Of course I did. She was the second most famous courtesan in Zamarka. It might strike you as odd, that Zamarka would have courtesans, when wealthy and powerful men could simply buy slaves, or acquire concubines. Beautiful women could be purchased, and owned, for surprisingly modest sums. Captives in war, children sold for debt ... there were many different ways that lovely young girls ended up as sexual objects.

But Zamarka also had a few very special women ... it would not do to call them prostitutes, since sex was only one of the services they offered. It is difficult to explain.

Try to imagine a society where, if you had enough money, you could purchase an attractive slave for your sexual gratification. But your wife - if you had one - was married to you for political or commercial advantage. Other than the production of children ... what would you have to talk about?

Now imagine a woman ... an unusual woman ... attractive, but also independent. Someone capable of holding your interest in conversation - an educated, well-read, sophisticated woman. There were not so many of these in Zamarka.

"Gaudina is the best known courtesan." said Yasina. "Her beauty is legendary, and men rave about her singing voice. Semira Miramis is the clear second. Her fame rests on her intelligence as well as her other charms. An evening with her is ferociously expensive. It's also said that if she doesn't like a client, or find him interesting enough, she refunds half of her exorbitant fee, and sends the fellow on his way."

- "Impressive." I said. But what really struck me was the way the Empress talked about a courtesan. I do believe that Yasina was a little jealous.

- "What's more impressive is that Semira Miramis has sent the Emperor an invitation. To a private dinner, at her house."

- "And will the Emperor accept?" I asked.

- "Don't be a fool!" said Yasina. "Of course we will! This could be ... legendary. The courtesan and the Emperor. People will be talking about this for years - if it's a success."

- "Would Semira Miramis not want it to be a success? Surely that would increase her popularity, or notoriety."

- "I don't know." said Yasina. "She's quirky. There are many ways she could turn this to her advantage. For example, if she spurned the Emperor, no other man could ever complain if she turned him down."

- "So it could be dangerous?" I asked.

- "Very. But the reward could be tremendous. Your reputation would be made."

- "When?"

- "Two weeks' time." said the Empress.

Yasina worked me hard for a week, and then gave me seven days' rest. That was a clear indication of how seriously she took this whole affair. I was only allowed to go home for a single night.

Bishkur, surprisingly, was also in favor of this excursion.

- "You know, I would prefer that my reign was remembered for something more ... tangible. Such as the water project. But there is no question that people are talking about the reputation you've created as a ... lover of women. I believe that Mother is correct this time: the encounter could become famous."

- "If it goes well." I said.

- "I have every confidence in you." he said.

On the appointed night, I was carried into the city in a palanquin, escorted by a round dozen guardsmen. The lady's house was located halfway between the district of the artists and a fashionable, wealthy neighborhood. It was lavish, but not overly ostentatious.

She had two burly guards of her own inside the door. I was greeted by a middle-aged servant woman, hunched over and wearing a scarf over her head. No one bowed, or showed me any special deference. For this evening, we would pretend that I was simply another guest of the famous courtesan.

- "This way." said the servant. She shuffled through an atrium, and then a well-appointed sitting room, towards the back of the house. Finally, she entered another sitting room, which contained nothing but two couches, separated by a low table. The chamber was lit by only four candles.

The servant stepped aside as we entered, and invited me to go ahead with a sweep of her arm.

- "Welcome to the home of Semira Miramis." she said. Something about the gesture, and the way she said the name, struck me as odd. So I took a risk.

I turned, and bowed to the servant woman.

- "Thank you, my Lady." I said.

She raised her head, and looked me in the eye. Her face was split in a wide grin.

- "You devil! How did you know?" she exclaimed. I got my first look at Semira Miramis, at close range, in the dim light. She was over 30, for certain - possibly closer to 40. She had lines around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth, which no amount of makeup could conceal. Her eyes were light brown. Her only exceptional feature was a rather large nose, which jutted forth proudly.

Her face was handsome, I suppose, but she had no real claim to great beauty. Under the scarf, she had a huge mass of hair which was dyed bright red. It was well beyond chestnut and auburn.

- "A lucky guess." I said.

- "Never! Tell me how you knew." she insisted.

- "The scarf, for one." I said. "You needed it to hide all of your hair. But no servant woman would have so much of it. Then, your ... gesture, at the door."

- "Too much?" she asked.

- "A bit." I said. "But it was the way you said your name which ... gave it away."

- "How did I say it?" she asked.

- "Semira Miramis." I said, trying to mimic her tone. "Proudly. Like it was your own. It is a wonderful name."

- "Thank you." she said, with a little bow of her own. "Shall we sit?"

Though it was dimly lit, I could see that the room was almost bare, except for the couches and the table. Semira removed her scarf, revealing waves of shockingly red hair. Then she also took off her outer garment.

Under it, to my surprise, she wore a very plain top, with long sleeves. Though it covered her from throat to wrist, the simple garment could not entirely conceal the fact that she was well-endowed. Her skirt was equally plain: a simple green, without patterns or embellishments. In fact, she was dressed much like my own mother would have been.

The woman, and her clothing, were not at all what I had been expecting. She was obviously not trying to impress or seduce me. But I didn't let my momentary confusion rob me of my manners.

It would have been rude to have come to her house without a gift. I had racked my brain trying to choose the appropriate one. Money, or a gem would have been crass. Besides, she had plenty of both. Something unique, or fabulously expensive, from the Palace would have been equally wrong. In the end, I had gone with my gut feeling.

I drew forth a single red rose, and presented it to her.

Her face clouded over for an instant. "A rose? Isn't that what you give to your concubines? After you've had them?"

- "If they please me, yes." I answered. "But you have already pleased me, Semira Miramis, by your invitation. I am deeply ... honored."

She watched my face, reading my expression. She seemed to conclude that I was being sincere. "Thank you." she said. "The honor is mine."

She clapped her hand, and a servant girl brought in a platter with bread and cheese. She left, and returned with a clay jug and two simple cups. Even in the dim light I could see that the girl was lovely. But I was beginning to guess what my hostess was up to. A simple room, the simplest of fare ...

Semira poured the wine, and handed me a cup. "Health and good fortune." she toasted. "A very plain vintage. But possibly one your Highness is not familiar with."

- "You misjudge me, Lady." I said. "Today, I may be the Emperor. But it was not always so. For most of my life, I was merely the youngest of ... many sons. Even today, I do not feast very often. Plain fare suits me very well. Thank you."

She had the grace to apologize, with a winning smile. "Forgive me, Highness. I didn't mean to imply that you lived on sweetmeats and dainties, or drank nothing but ambrosia."

- "Please, Lady. If we are to be friends, you need not call me 'Highness' at every turn."

- "Are we to be friends?" she laughed, with another disarming smile. "I do hope so. Very well: I won't use 'Highness', and you can call me Mira. Just plain 'Mira'."

As we talked, I began to understand why Semira - Mira, that is - had such well-developed lines around her eyes, and at the corners of her mouth. It was not advanced age. Instead, it was because she smiled and laughed so frequently. When she talked, her face became quite animated, and expressive. I reduced my estimate of her age by a few years.

She was, indeed, very intelligent. If I had merely resembled Bishkur physically, Mira would probably have found me out. Thankfully, I was a student, a tutor - a well-educated man. This courtesan was expecting Bishkur, the scholar-Prince, and I was able to deliver him.

We discussed art, and poetry. She was vastly more knowledgeable about music than I was. She also knew dozens of tales and legends - and even more interesting, had met many of the men who had written or composed them.

Eventually, we came to the topics she really wanted to discuss: fountains and aqueducts.

- "Tell me the truth." she said. "Isn't this all a ploy, to gain popularity? Aren't you just currying favor with the people?"

- "That is one goal of the water project." I admitted. "But if I wanted only glory, or the approval of the people, I could simply ... put on a spectacle, or give away free food. This project is for the future. We will guarantee our water supply, and provide water to many who did not have access before now."

If this is 'currying favor', you must admit, at least, that I am not ... pandering to the lowest common denominator."

Mira was surprisingly well-informed about the whole project. She seemed to know more than anyone except Bishkur and his engineers. Fortunately, he had talked my ear off about it, so that I was able to keep up with her.

We talked and talked, and I did not even notice how long it had been, until Mira's girl came in to replace the candles, which had burned low.

- "Fascinating." I said. "I was not aware that so much time had passed."

- "That's a high compliment." she said, smiling. "Is there another subject you would care to discuss? Anything at all."

- "I am very curious about you." I told her. "Your career, how you ... embarked upon it. How does one become a courtesan?"