The Sultan's Spy

Chapter 38: Sultan

Hearing the water-clock chime the noon hour, Tariq let out a sigh of relief. While the other scribes began packing up their things, he hurried to finish the last of the barely legible scrap he'd been copying. Fahim and the others hung back as Tariq stowed his things and stood. He let the others head out first, rolling his shoulders to try and relieve the tenseness that never seemed to drain from there and his neck since learning the truth about Eliska.

He hid a grimace as he found himself again thinking about her. He had a job to do, and it wouldn't get done if he was forever dwelling on Eliska. Tariq had barely gotten a step outside when he found himself intercepted by Baghel. "Hello Akhtar."

Forcing a smile onto his face, Tariq nodded, wondering what the man wanted. He rarely saw him, only when there was a special assignment or a problem did he poke his nose into the scribes' room. "Hello. What can I do for you?"

His supervisor returned the expression. "I had wanted to see how you've been settling in. From all reports you're doing well, but I thought you might have questions or something I could help you with...?"

Tariq shook his head, hoping that would be the end of it. Fahim and the others were hovering near the corner of the hall, watching. He wished he could wave them on. Then Baghel was talking and he had to focus on him. "I'm glad. I wasn't able to give you the proper training and start I would typically, we've been so busy, so I've been worried. But if you're doing well, then that's all I need to hear."

Ducking his head, Tariq used the movement to glance at the other scribes. He frowned as he realized they weren't looking at him any longer but something down the hall from him, eyes wide. Tariq straightened and turned at the same time that Baghel took notice as well.

The man moving towards them was dressed well, his silk kaftans and trousers all of the finest quality, the embroidery on the hems done with gold thread. Clean-shaven and with grey lightening his black hair, his square features were familiar to Tariq, even if he'd never seen him this close. He bowed deeply while beside him Baghel did the same. "Your Majesty."

Sultan Kasimer stopped in front of them and smiled, his face serene. Tariq longed to sink his fist into that polite mask, to show the man who'd let the man who'd taken him in be ruined just what it felt like to hurt when you thought you were safe. Eliska's face flickered in his mind. He was her brother, not that he could see the resemblance. Maybe in the way they walked a bit, but certainly not in their features.

Fighting to keep his emotions off his face while still bent, Tariq almost missed the Sultan's words. "-would like to borrow this scribe here for a time. I find I have need of some extra copies of some documents before my meeting this afternoon."

"Of course, Your Majesty." Baghel nearly folded himself in half with the depth of his bow before he turned his head so he could look at Tariq. "Akhtar, follow his majesty and do your absolute best work," he said, voice quiet and obviously meant only for Tariq's ears.

He nodded at his supervisor before finally straightening. "Your Majesty," Tariq said again with a quick, bobbing bow.

Brown eyes studied him, betraying nothing of the thoughts behind the calm face turned his way. "Excellent, if you'll follow me."

Knowing the words weren't a question but an order, Tariq trailed behind the Sultan. The two guards that Tariq almost hadn't noticed, fell into step close to him, close enough that they'd be on him long before he could even touch the Sultan. Not that he was stupid enough to do that. No matter how much he hated the man.

Tariq kept his eyes on his shoes as they ambled down the hall. He hoped it gave people the impression that he was incredibly humbled or in awe over this 'honour', and the reality, that he was trying to hide the anger at the Sultan hidden from everyone around him. If he couldn't, he imagined that Eliska's sister really would have him killed.

The realization that her sister would be the Sultan's sister as well didn't improve his mood any. By the time they finally reached what he presumed was the Sultan's office, Tariq had himself more or less under control. Still, to be safe he was keeping his head down. Literally.

"Please, have a seat." The Sultan gestured towards the desk near the door, the beautifully carved wood something far nicer than even Tariq owned personally. The floor was gold-veined marble, and what little he'd seen in his quick scan spoke of further luxury and beauty.

He sat gingerly, like he was afraid of hurting the obviously expensive furniture. When the silence stretched out for several seconds, he risked a glance up. The Sultan was watching him, dark eyes bright with a glint of something that Tariq couldn't figure out what was, only the tiniest glimmer of it slipping through the man's mask.

Realizing that he was staring back, Tariq ducked his head back down, cursing his inattention. That's how he'd end up dead. He didn't doubt Eliska's words on that front, not when the fear had been evident in her eyes. He needed to be careful, especially around royals.

"Before we begin, might I ask your name?"

Tariq couldn't help the faint flinch but hoped it would come across as nerves. "My name is Akhtar, Your Majesty."

"Ah, yes. Akhtar. You're new to the palace, I believe?"

If he hadn't been it was just his imagination, Tariq could have sworn that the Sultan had just put the slightest emphasis on his name. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"And how are you finding the palace?"

Tariq looked up again, in time to see the Sultan smooth his face back out, but what expression had been there just before he didn't catch. "Everyone has been most welcoming, Your Majesty."

"I imagine they have been. Now, I suppose I had best set you to work so that you don't fall behind your usual duties. There are three papers I need copies of to your right, and to your left, I have two notes I would like transferred in a finer hand than they were written in. You will find the tools you need already there."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." The words tasted like sand in his mouth, but Tariq still said them. He turned his attention to the papers in front of him, resolving to get them done as quickly as possible so he didn't have to stay near the Sultan any longer than necessary. If asked, he'd pass it off as trying to show off that he worked swiftly and well to the Sultan, not that he thought anyone would question him about it.

Tariq had barely finished the three copies he needed to make when the door opened. Without thinking, he looked up to see who'd come in. He froze in place when he found himself facing the familiar form of Eliska.