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“Leave that to me,” Reza continued. “I was one of the foremost merchants of Rey for decades, and I understand the notion of a commodity. Something is rare and desirable when it is made to seem so.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Uncle,” Tariq said.
The light from the torches blazed in Reza’s eyes. “I will make you what they want to see. You need only be what you already are—strong young men and gifted warriors.”
Tariq’s forehead creased, his gaze uncertain. “But that still doesn’t explain how we intend to persuade others to follow a leaderless cause.”
“It will not be leaderless. You will be its leader, Tariq-jan. You will give this cause a voice. The lack of a voice is the reason the riots in the city streets are quelled time and again. Your voice must be one that resonates, that demands we see what truly lies at the heart of our kingdom: a boy-king who does not deserve to rule Khorasan. A boy-king who must be destroyed, at all cost.”
Rahim pounded his palm against the table in approval.
“So we mean to organize a force and storm the city? That is my greatest hope, but is such a feat even possible?” Tariq asked.
Reza took a sip of wine. “It will work if we build on our beliefs and make them a reality. Your hope will be our tinder, and my righteousness, our blaze.”
Tariq looked to his uncle once more. “Where do we begin?”
Reza pushed his plate aside. “Return home. I need time to clear my affairs in Rey and determine who might be willing to assist with our cause. The Emir of Karaj will likely provide some form of aid . . . his wife’s cousin suffered the same fate as Shiva a few weeks ago. Once I am in the position to do so, I will send for you.”
“What about Shazi? I won’t leave Rey until—”
“The caliph left for the city of Amardha this afternoon. He does not—” Traces of hidden rage settled around Reza’s mouth. “He does not murder his brides unless he’s in Rey, presumably to witness the spectacle. She will be safe for at least a week.”
Tariq paused for a beat before nodding. “Then, after we collect Irsa and Jahandar-effendi, Rahim and I will return home and await your missive.”
“Jahandar and Irsa? Did you not know? They left Rey the night of the wedding. No one has seen or heard from them since.”
“Gone? But where could they—”
“I assumed they were going to you, Tariq-jan. Did you not receive a letter from them?”
“Shazi’s letter. Did she not make mention of her family in it?” Rahim asked.
“I don’t know. I never finished reading it.”
“Of course not.” Rahim harrumphed.
Reza gazed thoughtfully at his nephew. “In the future, you must be more deliberate in your actions. Take time before making decisions. It will be of great benefit to you.”
Tariq inhaled through his nose. “Yes. I’ll do better, Uncle.”
“You’ve always done better, Tariq-jan. Which is why I know we will succeed.”
“Thank you. For taking on such a task so willingly.”
“I am the one who should be grateful to both of you. It has been a long time since I’ve felt hope spark within me.”
The three men rose from the table and moved farther into the courtyard, where Zoraya remained perched on her makeshift mews, patiently awaiting Tariq. He do
The shadow of her body in flight drew across Tariq’s face, masking his features from the torchlight for an instant.
Reza smiled to himself.
Something to fight for.
And something to use.
• • •
The following morning, Rahim was jarred awake by the sound of metal thumping into the wood just outside his open window. He rolled from his bed and lumbered to the sill.
“What the hell are you doing?” he grumbled to Tariq.
“What does it look like?” Tariq lifted the recurve bow and nocked an arrow to the sinew. “We need to leave.”
Rahim glanced up at the sky. The sun had yet to crest above the horizon; it was nothing but a jagged ribbon of light along the eastern rooftops of Rey.
“Did you even sleep?” Rahim yawned.
Tariq let the arrow fly. It thudded into the wood beside Rahim’s head.
Rahim did not flinch. “Was that truly necessary?”
“Get your things. Before my uncle returns and insists we eat with him.”
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know. He left while it was still dark outside.” Tariq fitted another arrow to the string and took aim.
“Why are we vanishing like thieves in the night?”
Tariq shot him a look to skewer a stone. “Because I don’t want him to know what we’re doing.”
“Oh? What are we doing?”
“You and your infernal questions!” Tariq loosed the arrow. It coiled in a tight spiral and thunked into the wood, perfectly grouped alongside seven other arrows with matching fletchings.
“All hail Tariq, son of Nasir, Emir of Taleqan. Congratulations. You can shoot an arrow,” Rahim said in a flat tone.
Tariq swore under his breath and started for the window. “I knew I never should have—”
“Calm down.” Rahim scratched at his scalp. “I’ll get my things. But can you tell me the reason for such secrecy?”
Tariq stopped near the open window and took a steadying breath.
“You’re starting to worry me,” Rahim continued. “I know you’re concerned about Shazi, but Reza-effendi said we should wait until—”
“No. I won’t wait. I can’t wait.”
Rahim pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you pla
“Something. Anything.”
“We still don’t have a plan. And Reza-effendi said to wait. We should wait.”
Tariq leaned a shoulder into the tan stone wall. “I’ve been thinking.”
“I’m listening,” Rahim sighed. “Despite my wiser inclinations.”
“The Badawi tribes along the border of Khorasan and Parthia . . . they’ve notoriously claimed no allegiance to either kingdom. What if we offered them a reason to change their position?”
“What kind of reason?”
“The reason any man fights for a cause. Purpose.”
“Sounds vaguely poetic,” Rahim rejoined. “You’re going to need more than that.”
“Land. The rights to land. The organization they need to demand those rights.”
Rahim shifted his lips to one side in contemplation. “Interesting. But they’re nomadic by nature. Why would they have any interest in land?”
“Some of them may not. But they’ve fought against each other over the centuries, and save an influx of gold, land is the quickest way to gain power and influence. Perhaps one of their leaders might take an interest in fighting alongside us. They may be notoriously ruthless, but they’re also some of the best horsemen I’ve ever encountered. I see nothing but an advantage for both parties.”
Rahim hedged. “It sounds dangerous.”
“It’s worth speaking to them. The worst that can happen is a refusal.”
“Actually, the worst that can happen is that they slit your throat.”
“Yes.” A series of vertical lines formed along the bridge of Tariq’s nose. “There is that. But it was not on my agenda to insult them, in the process.”
“Well, if anyone can talk their way out of a beheading, it’s you.”
“I thank you, Rahim. As always, your abiding confidence in me casts any possibility of doubt astray.”
Rahim countered with a lopsided grin. “Actually, if anyone can talk their way out of a beheading, it’s Shazi. Thankfully, some of that charisma managed to rub off on you.”
“It was never charisma. It was unmatched nerve,” Tariq said in amused remembrance.
“Perhaps you’re right. I could see her daring a cobra to strike, swearing her venom would kill first.”