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She observed their passage, knowing that Xerxes and his men would find something, if something were there to be found. It was more than likely, however, that the perpetrator was still amongst them, under cover of the camp. Many watchful eyes hid themselves from view here.
Amshazar was waiting for her, as if he had known that she would return. He stood outside his tent beneath the crisp skies, observing her approach, seemingly unperturbed by the presence of her guards.
She paused; she did not want the guards to overhear any references to her previous encounter with Amshazar. “Wait here,” she instructed. “I will be within your sights,” she added, when they hesitated. “I need to speak with Amshazar, that is all."
The guards stood by observing as she closed on her target.
"Was this why I was with you,” she whispered to him when she reached his side, “to undermine me through such treachery?"
He reached out for her arm, drawing her close so that they would not be overheard. “You were with me because you wanted to be with me,” he responded, his expression earnest.
"And now my woman servant is dead.” She felt panic strike, the whole strangeness of the night's events taking hold of her, casting her adrift from reason. “You knew something. When we heard the scream, you knew what had happened,” she said. “This evil thing, to take a life ... someone so very precious to me.” The tears were welling inside her. She battled against them, and the rage she felt, glancing back at her guards for reassurance. “Was it supposed to be me, was this to undermine me? To warn me, and if so, of what?"
He lifted her hands in his, holding her wrists with strong fingers.
She was shaking. If this thing had been done to strike fear in her soul, it had surely succeeded.
"Listen to me,” he whispered fiercely.
She struggled against him, but he held firm, his gaze flickering between her and her men, cautiously weighing their mood and possible reactions.
"Elishiba, please...” He held her hands with one of his, and moved to stroke away the hair that tangled itself against her cheek.
"Enemies are everywhere. There are struggles ahead of you. There is more at stake than you and your father could realize. Please remember that nothing is as simple as it seems."
She could not grasp his words. He was talking in riddles, telling her nothing. She saw only that she had been with him, and then this awful thing had happened to them.
"You tell me nothing. Are you part of this, Amshazar? Did you know of this, when I was with you?"
He shook his head, but his eyes remained clear and focused. “No, I knew nothing of it, until the sense of evil circled the camp on the night air, and we heard the scream."
She wanted him not to be part of it, despite the fact he plainly was, somehow. Her heart ached for it not to be so. And yet she felt she needed to mistrust him, for he was so very much part of the unknown world into which she was walking. Something within her, desperation for comfort, perhaps, or the fact they had become lovers, wanted to question and to believe. “I am surrounded by enemies. I cannot even trust my own servants to observe and keep my people safe. You are allied to my enemy ... who am I to trust? Tell me this."
"You can trust me, Elishiba. Believe this much.” His gaze held hers.
She wanted to hear him say that, yes. But at the same time she could not easily accept it. Even as she struggled with her dilemma, the passion with which he had so recently taken her haunted her body. She threw her hair back, breathing deep, closing her eyes momentarily to clear t
he tears that threatened to fall.
He leaned closer, his breath tracing a warm passage over her cheek. “You trusted me as a woman trusts a man to whom she offers her body. Trust me again."
His voice was slow and murmured against her skin.
His words brought more questions. Had she offered herself to him, had she trusted him then? Had he led her there on a carpet of sorcery beneath her feet, to save her from something that might have happened to her, or to distract her while his men gained access to her people? Was he just another player in the scene, a foil for deceit? Could she even trust herself, in the face of her overwhelming desire for this man?
She pulled free, putting her hands to her head. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “I cannot understand why this has happened.” She looked back at him, needing to see his reaction, trying to gauge him. “Was it meant to be me?"
"I do not think so.” He frowned. “It was a sophisticated act. The purpose was more likely to be exactly this.” He nodded at her. “To undermine you and those who serve and protect you, to unnerve you as you approach Lhastari."
She thought about what he said and nodded. It had affected her and all of those closest to her. They were becoming as restless and afraid as a group of captive animals. That is not how she'd wanted to arrive in Lhastari, no. She had wanted to be strong and sure. “Yes, I see that. I didn't anticipate feeling this way. Someone has taken control of that."
"Tried to,” he stressed. “They have tried to take control. I know it's no easy thing to accept, but you must use your response to this situation to make you strong, do not allow it to weaken your resolve."
What he said struck a note with her. She eyed him carefully in the moonlight. If he was behind this, he'd woven a clever plot and was concealing his path well. Who else could it be? Sibias? That thought triggered a memory. “Wait ... when I came here earlier tonight, to see you—"
Her thoughts rushed as she remembered. “Sibias saw me, he saw me coming here and he smiled.” She shuddered at the memory of it.
Amshazar took a sharp intake of breath. “He may have acted upon the moment, in that case. Sibias is Mehmet's tool, and he truly is vermin of the worst kind.” He seemed annoyed, his cheeks moving with restrained annoyance.
