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She asked Dasheena to send the other women off to find soft clay by the shores of the lake then went back to her tent and rummaged through her bags. She pulled out pots of minerals crushed into fine powder, golden charms, earrings set with rubies and emeralds. With the help of Bashar, the old cook, she fashioned a playing board from the clay, rolling it flat with the stone he used to form the thin loaves of bread.
She showed her sisters in the harem how to sculpt pawns, bishops, and rooks, setting everything in the hot oven to bake while they slept away the hottest part of the day. When it cooled, she divided the playing board into 64 squares, leaving some squares the natural color of the clay. Every other square, she painted with the kohl and oil mixture the women used to accentuate their eyes. Na’ Ima rubbed kohl onto one set of figurines while Bree tinted the others with the henna. Finally, she adorned the rooks, bishops, kings, and queens with gold and jewels stripped from her royal adornments.
When darkness fell, a messenger came to their tent, informing the women the suiltaan required their presence. Bree had dressed in her finest robes, covering her wrists and fingers with bangles and rings. She wore an amber necklace that hung halfway to her waist, arranged in size from beads as small as pearls to enormous nearly-translucent chunks that seemed to glow from within in the firelight. Around her throat was a gold chain set with precious stones.
She packed the chess pieces in a silver box from her saddlebag, and Dasheena arranged for a small boy to carry in the chessboard. When they entered his tent, Tahraz wasted no time coming to the point. “We will eat…and then you will entertain me,” he proclaimed as Bree followed Dasheena in.
She stepped forward. “If it pleases the suiltaan, I have a gift for you…in gratitude for saving the life of the Queen of Sheba. Your companions have been kind enough to help me create this tribute to your bravery, your goodness, and your mercy.”
Bree knew she could never go wrong pandering to a man’s desire for praise, for everything from saving someone’s life to taking out the trash. The suiltaan did not disappoint her. Nodding his head slightly as if to acknowledge the truth of her words, he beckoned her to come forward. “Present your gift,” he replied graciously.
Bree gestured to the young boy. He bowed then laid the chessboard on a small stone table near Tahraz’s chaise. The suiltaan’s eyes lit up. Bree held out the silver chest with both hands, head lowered. He took it, turning the box around and around to examine the etched surface.
Too late, she remembered it was decorated with the explicitly erotic images the Sabateans were so fond of creating. Interspersed with plants and flowers and animals were scenes of people enjoying sex in every imaginable position. He looked up at Bree, raised one eyebrow then opened the box. She kept her head bowed, too embarrassed to make eye contact.
Tahraz removed the chess pieces, examining each one in great detail. When the last piece had been unpacked, he looked back at Bree. “I have never seen a gift such as this. Please, tell me about it.”
“This is a game of strategy my people play,” she explained. “It is a test of skill and daring. Each side has a king who must be protected at all cost. If you will permit,” she went on, gesturing to one of the pieces.
He handed it to her. Bree went into the speech she had rehearsed, describing each piece and the role it played.
“In this contest, there is one piece more powerful than all the others,” she finished. “It is the queen. As in my land, the queen is respected by her people and regarded as formidable by her foes. She alone moves as she pleases around the board, in any and all directions. But even the queen is vulnerable. If she is not vigilant, she may be taken down by a lowly pawn…and a lowly pawn may, through skill and daring, advance to become a queen in her own right.”
Tahraz listened intently. Bree could see he was intrigued.
“We will dine and then you will show me how this game is played.”
“If it pleases the suiltaan,” Bree murmured, keeping her head bowed so he would not see the triumph in her eyes.
Once again, Bashar brought in a huge tray. He managed to catch her eye and winked again. It was clear she’d won his respect in their games that morning.
After the meal, Bree set up the board, naming each piece as she did and demonstrating the moves it could make. Tahraz frowned when he learned the king could only move one square at a time, while the queen had free rein to go in any direction, attacking soldiers on horseback and the wise counselors called bishops, as well as the queen and king of her enemies.
They played a practice game, with Bree explaining the strategy behind each move. He frowned even more deeply when she checkmated his king.
“We will play again,” he declared. “Dasheena, take the other women away. Tonight I will learn this game given to me by the Queen of Sheba. Then tomorrow, we will have a contest.”
* * *
Dasheena bowed and backed out of the room, followed by the other women. Tahraz scarcely noticed. His attention was on the board, and he asked many questions as they moved through the plays of another game. His mind was sharp, and it did not take long for him to recognize the strategy behind the moves…how to set a trap for a king or the tactic of sacrificing a piece to gain the advantage elsewhere on the board.
As they played, he began to look at Bree through different eyes. Far from being merely an exotic beauty from a foreign land, he found the female’s intelligence as appealing as her fiery spirit. He sensed she would be a formidable opponent, and his combative nature was engaged. He’d seen her pleasing form, experienced her passionate response to his touch. But the discovery that she had a mind capable of such intricate plotting intrigued him.I may not defeat her as easily as I first imagined. But it will only make my eventual conquest of her that much sweeter.
* * *
They played for hours. Tahraz’s mind was a sponge, soaking up knowledge as fast as Bree could deliver it. His quick grasp of the intricacies of the game amazed her. This man could have walked into the boardroom of an international corporation or the war room of a modern-day world power and held his own.
The faint light of dawn was creeping over the mountains when he finally pushed the board aside. “This game pleases me,” he announced. “We will play again. Tonight.” He waved Bree off, and she backed out of the tent as she had seen the other women do.
Dasheena was awake when she crept into the women’s tent. “You did well, Queen Bilquis,” she whispered. “Tahraz was truly pleased with your gift. I have not seen him so interested in anything for many moons.”
Bree smiled. “I thank you for your help, Dasheena. Without you and your sisters, I could not have created it so quickly – or so skillfully.” Wearily, she curled up on a rug in the corner and closed her eyes.
When she woke, the sun had already begun to drop behind the mountains to the west. Once again, the women were bustling around in the tent, preparing themselves to be presented to their suiltaan. They gossiped about daily life in the oasis, teased each other about who would be chosen that night.
There didn’t seem to be any jealousy among them, which surprised Bree. She’d always thought women in a harem were sworn rivals, fiercely competing for the attention of their sultan. But these women treated each other with kindness, even affection.
Bree pulled Dasheena aside. “You treat each other lovingly, as sisters. Are you not in conflict, each seeking to be the favorite?”
